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Class _1 

Book <12 6 











THE 


„ CONSEQUENCES 

« 

or THE 

FRENCH REVOLUTION 

TO 

Cnglanti, 

CONSIDERED, 

WITH A VIEW OF THE REMEDIES 

CF WHICH 

HER SITUATION IS SUSCEPTIBLE. 


ly 


By WILLIAM BURT, 

' // 

AUTHOR OF DANMONIENSIS ON BANKS, AND TWELVE 
RAMBLES IN LONDON. 


“ Felix, quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum / 5 
“ ImpaTidum ferient ruinae. 


>> 


LONDON: 


PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
PATERNOSTER-ROW ; AND MAY BE HAD 
OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. 



1811. 

[W. Lewis, Printer, Paternoster-row, London, j 

Co 








>1 


♦ r y . 

■ - 

' X 

\ ' r 

v . 



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i 


* 










DEDICATION. 

i 


TO TIIE 

>. b $ ■ ( ' • r i • 

RIGHT HON. LORD HOLLAND. 


IF a total separation from the 
cabal of party, united with an inva¬ 
riable adherence to the true inte¬ 
rests of the country, can entitle any 
character to the name of patriot, 
that venerable appellation, my lord, 
is, truly, yours : and while sound 






DEDICATION. 


iv 

sense, not misdirected by the versa¬ 
tility of sycophantism for place and 
power, and the dignified combina¬ 
tion of the public-spirited exertions 
of the nobleman, with all the esti¬ 
mable qualities of private life, may 
claim respect in England, the name 
of Holland must be, ever, revered. 

In receiving your lordship’s per¬ 
mission to dedicate this work to 
your lordship, with the opinions and 
principles of which your lordship 
was, totally, unacquainted, I feel 
inseparable sentiments of gratitude 
and pride—gratitude, that the favour 
should have been so readily and flat¬ 
ter ingiv bestowed on an obscure in- 
dividual, who appealed to the feel- 


DEDICATION. 


V 


ings of your lordship’s sensibility— 
and pride, because ushering my 
name into the world with that of 
your lordship, pledges me to an 
imitation of your lordship’s inde¬ 
pendent spirit; and binds me never 
to prostitute my pen, for venal 
purposes, in the praise or condem¬ 
nation of any man or set of men, 
unless my heart can approve the 
justice of that praise or censure. 

I trust your lordship will live 
long, for the advantage of the coun¬ 
try. Were all public characters 
like your lordship, we might expect 

to see a general union of men and 

\ 

measures, for one common good— 
the salvation of England ! 


DEDICATION. 


V i 

I have the honour to be, with the 
most unfeigned respect, 

My Lord, 

Your lordship’s very humble 
and obliged servant. 


WILLIAM BURT. 


PREFACE. 


\ 


THE investigation of truth is the basis 
of philosophy ; for truth is the best guide 
to the rectification of past error, and af¬ 
fords experience, for future action. 

• 

But truth must not be searched for, in 
the mazy labyrinth of theoretical anticipa¬ 
tions; springing from first causes, and 
rendered immutable by their attendant 
consequences, she spurns at conjecture, 
and will yield no remedies, but to those, 
who will heed her admonitions: first 
causes point out the extension of human 





vm 


PREFACE. 


rashness, and may be reasoned over, by 
the statesman, divine, and philosopher, 
with manifold advantages to politics, reli¬ 
gion, and virtue. 

In a free country, such as that of Eng¬ 
land, unshackled enquiry into public mea¬ 
sures, conducted with moderation, and di¬ 
vested of all party spirit* and taints of 
self-interest, is the best guardian of civil 
liberty, and one of the most efficient pro¬ 
tectors of an invaluable constitution. 
Were the pen, that traces events to 
their first origin, and descants, with pa¬ 
triotism, on what has involved the nation 
in injury, to be arrested in its progress by 
a forbidding hand ; were manly discus¬ 
sion to be checked in its warm appulsions; 

* u Nullius ad diet us jurarc in YCiba magistri.” 


PREFACE. IX 

and chains to close the issues of the press, 
freedom would be a mere word without a 
meaning, and slavery would be the state 
of such a people : but, happily for Eng¬ 
land, happily, perhaps, for the world, there 
is yet one place, where the dove of liberty 
may rest her jaded feet; there is yet a 
country, where the ideas of the soul may 
be, not merely whispered, but loudly ut¬ 
tered, so long as they trench not on the 
justly-defined limits of constitutional ani¬ 
madversion. # 

* On this point Mr. Sheridan well observed, 
in the House of Commons, February G, 1810 : — 
u Was it the liberty of (lie press, that had brought 
France into that dreadful state of anarchy and 
ruin, which characterised the revolution? was it 
not, on the contrary,' the suppression of all liberty 
of discussion; the prohibition of all publications, 
not sanctioned by permission of authority ; the pre¬ 
vention of that rational and temperate considera¬ 
tion of public interests and measures, which, alone, 


X 


PREFACE. 


If we canvass events, that have, long 
since, sunk into the bosom of eternity, 
without making a clue impression, at the 
period of their occurrence, we may benefit 
mankind, by exciting a re-consideration 
of their first rise, tendency, and result: 
nay, we may do more, by rendering it at¬ 
tentive to prospective circumstances, and 
inculcating wisdom, for future opera¬ 
tions. 

could excite and nourish patriotic feelings and na¬ 
tional spirit, that had caused all the mischief, 
attendant on that revolution? what was it, that 
had caused the downfall of all the nations of Eu¬ 
rope? was it the liberty of the press ? No! it was 
the want of that salutary controul upon their go¬ 
vernments, that animating source of public spirit 
and national exertion ! If the liberty of the press 
had existed in France, before or since the revolu¬ 
tion ; if it had existed in Austria; if in Prussia; 
if in Spain; Buonaparte would not, now, find 
himself in the situation to dictate to Europe, and 

fill the throne of nearly an universal monarch.’* 

* 


PKEFACE. 


XI 


Nothing tends more than contrast, to 
direct frailty to a better path: good and ill 
fortune; virtue,and vice; industry and 
idleness, are absolute contraries; but, yet, 
were there no ill fortune, vice, or idleness, 
the advantages of their opposites would 
not be estimated. 


The French revolution was a first cause, 
than which no event, since the ful l of the Ro¬ 
man empire, has been more calculated to call 
forth the feelings of awe, or to convince the 
theoretical of the futility of all schemes of na¬ 
tional improvement,which have not their ba¬ 
sis in religion and virtue.* Founded on an 

* cc To make principles or fundamentals,” says 
Harrington in his Oceana, ri belongs not to man, 
to nations, nor to human laws. To build upon 
such principles or fundamentals, as are, apparently, 
laid by God, in the inevitable necessity or law o^ 
nature, is that, which appertains to man, to nations. 


I 


xii PREFACE. 

apathy to the duties incumbent on every go¬ 
vernment; on a relaxation of all principles; 
and on the ridiculous assumption of li¬ 
berty to render action subservient to incli¬ 
nation alone, it stands as a land-mark to 
future ages—to prove the undefinable ope¬ 
ration of mortal vagaries, to whose termi¬ 
nation there would be no limits, were it 
not for the consequences, so wisely or¬ 
dained by Providence, to teach man his 
finite nature. 

This awful convulsion is, now, no longer 
the revolution of France: it has enlarged 
itself into the revolution of Europe, and may 
lead to the revolution of the world. To 

and to human laws. To make any other funda¬ 
mentals (or imagined principles) and then to build 
upon them, is to build castles in the air.” What 
an excellent cud is this passage for modern reform¬ 
ists, from one too who was himself a speculator 1 


I 


PIIEFACE. 


• • • 
Xlll 

enquire into its effects, then, at least on 
England, is highly important; for they 
have, deeply, affected her prosperity, hap¬ 
piness, and commerce, and have rendered 
her situation, both internally and exter¬ 
nally, extremely different, in every point, 
from what it used to be. Whatever may be 
her future fate, she never can owe her 
greatness or downfall to the same circum¬ 
stances that have, formerly, existed. 

In calling however public attention to a 
view of past events, # and the consideration 

* The writer is, fully, aware, that it may be said, 
this is not the time to expatiate on the dangers and 
difficulties of the country : but, to use the words of 
Mr. fluskisson, in a debate on the army estimates ; 
u I differ from those, who may advance the asser¬ 
tion : for the wisest way, in my opinion, is fully to 
exhibit the situation of the country, in order, that 


xiv 


PREFACE. 


of what it may be wise to do, to obviate 
their pressure, it is, infinitely, more easy to 
shoot backwards, like the Parthian, than to 
traverse the fields of conjecture: the re¬ 
trospect is, unfortunately, too much within 
the grasp, and its component parts are 
too palpable to the vision, to be widely 
erred from.* But, with regard to antici- 

adequate provisions may be, seasonably, made, to 
counteract the dangers which menace it.’* 

This is no time to be afraid of undeceiving those, 
who are afraid to believe, that the country is in 
danger. On the contrary, the discovery of the truth, 
and nothing but the truth, may open the eyes of 
those who are blind to impending dangers,and satisfy 
those who shudder at the prospect, that efficient re¬ 
medies are within our power. 

* in this respect, nothing can be related but a 
harrowing tale ! which, after all, no modern pen 
can treat with justice; for prejudice should vanish, 
and impartiality should be enabled to look at every 


XV 


PREFACE. 

4 

cipatory modes of augmenting our re¬ 
sources, and, generally, ameliorating our 
condition, as an insulated and independ¬ 
ent people, the task is Herculean, parti¬ 
cularly, where inexperience is so daring 
as to attempt its execution. 

There is a tendency to putrescence, in 
the political as well as in the natural 
world, when the body may be, completely, 
worn out, and the blood may stagnate in 

* 

event, in its proper form, ere it can pass a decided 
ppinion. The future historian, alone, can venture 
minutely to pourtray circumstances, that were so 
singularly pregnant with uncommon appearances, 
and have travailed with a finale that is calculated, 
both to appal and to admonish mankind. All, 
that the writer can presume to do, will be to ad* 
vert to the effects of the French revolution on Eng¬ 
land, and these, he humbly conceives, may be exa* 
mined into, with advantage to his country. 


XVI 


PREFACE. 


every vein, from the total cessation of 
healthful vigour. As men appear on the 
stage of life, but to make their exits; so 
states play a similar, only a longer part, in 
the drama of existence: and the acmb of 
perfection, sooner or later, must be arrived 
at by both. From that moment the de¬ 
cline commences, and, gradually, tends to 
a final extinction : although occasional ex- 
hibitions of renewed energy, like the dying 
flame of a taper, may appear, the catas¬ 
trophe must arrive at last: the annals of 
man and the pages of history place this 
assertion beyond all dispute. 

Long before the commencement of the 
French revolution, the approaching dis- 
solution of her exhausted system was 
very evident; the machine of her govern¬ 
ment being totally rotten, and its wheels 


PREFACE, 


XVII 


being no longer able to make their neces¬ 
sary rotations. The change, which took 
place, was no more, in fact, than the im¬ 
perative operation of lassitude and decay,, 
added to the total absence of moral prin¬ 
ciples ; and the change, if properly con¬ 
ducted, might have, ultimately, proved of 
the most beneficial nature. 

There are political failings and moral- 
failings, and both are so intimately blend¬ 
ed, that it would be equally rash to ex¬ 
pect public virtue to be connected with 
private depravity, as to ascribe eternity to 
human institutions: the vices of subjects 
pre-suppose errors in government, and, if 
the former are very flagrant, the latter 
cannot be very far from its degradation- 

Such w 7 as the case in France—there was 

\ 

neither public nor private virtue to sup- 

b 2 


XVlii PREFACE. 

\ 

port the building, which fell, as much by 

* i 

its own weight, as by the battering ram of 
furious republicanism. Let England look 
well to this, and retrace her steps from 
the yawning precipice, ere her possible 
ruin may become inevitable ! 

The French revolution will, for ever, 
remain as a stain in the annals of huma¬ 
nity. Does England wish to inscribe her 
historic page with a similar one? The 
French revolution took from France all or¬ 
der, all religion, all commerce, and all hap¬ 
piness ; is England anxious to undergo a 
similar deprivation? Let Englishmen look 
at French liberty: “ a liberty, which is the 
most nefarious tyranny; which neither se¬ 
cures persons nor property; which has 
destroyed one Bastille and engendered 
thousands; which has turned every mans 


PREFACE. 


XIX 


house into a Bastille—for what ? merely 
to raise an obscure individual, and to esta¬ 
blish a government, that must be suc¬ 
ceeded by other changes.” Experience 
must have longr since taught all moderate 
men, that the existing form of government 
in France, even if it had proved more 
congenial to the temper of the people 
than it actually is, cannot continue longer, 
than while the daring, though politically 
as well as morally wicked character, which 
has, hitherto, maintained it in the zenith; 
of its glory, should exist; or, unless some 
equally bold and formidable spirit should 
suddenly start up, as a further scourge to 
a nation, not yet sufficiently punished for 
its iniquities. France, now, appears like 
a volcano burned out, on the sides of 
whose crater despotism has erected her 
throne : shall a* new volcano be opened in 

b 3 


XX 


PREFACE. 


♦ 

England, merely to try if the failings and 
errors of France, in her revolution; can be 

avoided, and a better system, eventually,. 

« 

take place ? 

In France,* all ranks are crushed by a 

* 

% | 

* France has sunk into a state of slavery, un¬ 
der a conqueror, who, by dint of cunning, has suc¬ 
ceeded, by turbulent days, to prepare himself 
anxious nights ; and, for the momentary acclama¬ 
tions of a sycophantic people and a gaping crowd, 
to incur the contempt of the wise, the execrations 
of the good, and the heavy resentment of supreme 
and divine justice for alt eternity. Whoever 
has had an opportunity of seeing the most horrid 
and affecting of all scenes, will agree; that it has 
been to behold a nation riding in triumph over 
fields of slaughter, and with the gloomy satisfaction 
©f a fiend, congratulating its own prowess, dex¬ 
terity, and successes, m proportion to the mischiefs 
and miseries it has occasioned. The great Author 
•f nature has impressed Ilis unalterable and eternal 
laws, not only on systems of material, but also of 
intellectual and moral worlds, and w hen He directed 


PREFACE. 


XXI 

stunning and wretched depression, inflict- 
ed by the merciless hands of an unprinci- 


rational and human creatures, by the plain road of 
reason, moderation, and justice, to happiness, He 
intended His dictates, no less for all nations, than 
for private individuals. Shallow human politics 
cannot reverse or elude the decrees of the Most 
High, and the transgressions of His laws, whether 
by nations or individuals, however palliated, sup¬ 
ported, and applauded by men, must terminate in 
wretchedness. 6C Terminus liic stabilis manebit 
Throughout the whole of the French revolution 
the influence of the unseen hand of Providence has 
been very evident, in disappointing the counsels of 
the wise, weakening the power of the mighty, put¬ 
ting down one and raising up another, and work¬ 
ing out its own great and important ends, alike by 
the weakness, the power, the virtue, the wicked¬ 
ness, the wisdom, and the folly, of mankind. In 
this revolution the madness of ambition appears in a 
striking light; and the dreadful ravages, produced 
by that wide wasting fury possessing the frantic 
brain of a destroyer, have sent him like a devour¬ 
ing fire, or an overflowing inundation, to spread 
injury over the whole face of the earth. For him 
numbers of the innocent and helpless have been 


XXII 


PREFACE. 


pled and lawless tyrant. In England, 
equal rights are established, through all 
the duly subordinate ranks, and there is no . 
power that can or will trample upon their 
security or property, their dearest inter¬ 
ests or valuable existences. 

It were vain, however, to suppose, that 
a portion of the vial, which has been, 
poured out, to the destruction of other 

countries, should not fall on the land of 

< 

liberty, ships, and commerce; or that 
events, which have overturned powers 
that once aspired to universal dominion, 
raised others to supreme authority that 

sacrificed to make a fellow worm great;, and thou, 
sands of human hecatombs have been offered to this 
infernal demon. A recollection of such scenes as 
these should teach the most inconsiderate the wis¬ 
dom of contentment. 


I 


PREFACE. XX111 

f 

once trembled as vassal states, and in¬ 
volved the whole of the continent in cha¬ 
otic confusion and a new 7 dynasty, should 
have merely tingled on the shield of Eng¬ 
land, without making any indentation, or 
effecting an injury. 

•Untoward incidents have, undoubtedly, 
occurred to her; but yet, and how much 
should Englishmen rejoice at the plea¬ 
surable reflection, she is yet entire and 
unsubdued; the fertility of her fields does 

not arise from the blood of her natives; 

/ 

no tears are witnessed for property de¬ 
spoiled; nor curses whispered for unjust 
aggressions: every class of society is 
equally amenable to the law r s, and every 
rnan, from the prince, even to the peasant, 
may demand the ordeal of a trial by jury. 

Ah, happy Englishmen ! if you did but 


XXIV 


preface. 


duly appreciate the advantages you pos¬ 
sess, notwithstanding your numerous and 
multifarious disasters ! could you but con¬ 
trast them with the miseries and oppres¬ 
sive bondage, under which, every part of 
Europe but Great Britain, at this moment 
groans! dear, indeed, would prove your 
native soil, with all its faults, and, to the 
last drop of the source of being, would 
you cherish,, uphold, and for ever defend 
it! 


If the picture of truth, I mean to pro- 
sent to you, may lead to a triumph over 
the result of misconduct, and teach a for¬ 
getfulness of former errors ; if corrected 
by the past, you improve the future, and, 
without succumbing to the influence of 
present unfa vourable circumstances, search 
only for the means of rescue, from a pe- 


PREFACE. 


XXV 


rilous condition, all may yet be well; and 
your country, availing herself of the dic¬ 
tates of experience, may again exalt her¬ 
self, as Providence and nature have, evi¬ 
dently, intended she should do, in the 
scale of nations ! 

Let it never be forgotten, that Frahce 
rose to break the fetters of thraldom; but 
the rash effort has only served to forge 
new ones, whose durability and texture 
are as hard as adamant: she strove for 
regeneration, and she has attained it: but 
in what does it consist ? is her population 
more free? her government less arbitrary ? 
her emperor more mild? or her morals 
more pure than they ever were ? what 
then, it may be asked, has been the use 
of her boasted revolution ? it was intend¬ 
ed as a lesson to the world, and it has 


XXVI 


PREFACE. 


proved one—it was meant to teach resig¬ 
nation and submission to established 
forms of government, and the doctrine 
has been, forcibly, inculcated, by her own 
example; for, having proved the inexpe¬ 
diency of fallacious systems, she has, rea¬ 
dily, resorted to antient customs. Mo- 
narchy was abolished by her—but she has 
now a monarch, whose nod, like that of 
Jupiter, is, unlimitedly, obeyed—she has 
tried the system of equalization—but has 
found that every circumstance conspires 
against it— she abrogated her nobility — 
but perceives the propriety of restoring the 
order—she decreed that God did not ex- 
ist, and that death was an eternal sleep 
but she has renewed her former modes of 
religion, and finds it, absolutely, indispens¬ 
able, that its duties should be, openly, in¬ 
culcated at least, if not, privately, practised. 


\ 


K r . '*>' m 

PREFACE. XxVli 

Can a more useful lesson be offered to 

4 

man ? .can the weakness of theory be bet¬ 
ter illustrated by an opposite practice ; or 
the phantom of outrageous liberty be 
more plainly demonstrated to the deluded 
senses ? what should it not teach to Eng- 

lishmen, who roar about wrongs and rave 

* 

about rights, without turning a single 
thought to the real amelioration of their 
country; who, like a bundle of sticks, are 
divided among themselves, forgetful of 
the hoop, that should bind them together! 

That the majority of his -countrymen 
should now wish to exhibit a prototype of 
the French revolution in this country, the 
writer cannot, for one moment, permit 
himself to credit: the wars, massacres, 
and Machieavalian operations, which have 
occurred, and even now occur in France. 


c 


PREFACE 


xxviii 

must be sufficient to repress every inclina¬ 
tion to such an experiment; and inculcate 
the necessity of subservience to a consti¬ 
tution, which, if it possess defects, from 
which no human system can be, perfectly, 
exempt, is far better than any, that inci¬ 
vilization and disorder could, possibly, 
produce.* 

* u The regal constitution of our country,” 
says Harrington in his Oceana, cc is a government 
by laws, not by arms, by laws imperfect, indeed, 
and liable to abuse; but working, peaceably, their 
own reform, without violent convulsion, and con¬ 
trolling alike all the orders of the state, from the 
lowest subject to the sovereign himself. Having 
witnessed the atrocities of the ruin of a legal mo- 
narchical form, by a turbulent mis-shapen republi¬ 
can one, and the overthrow of the latter, by the 
military tyranny of a stern usurper, to both I, re¬ 
luctantly, submit.” 

<c In the best constituted commonwealth,” says 
Bishop Saunderson, C6 there are not a few things 
amiss, which the utmost care and industry of 


PREFACE. 


xxix 

A lesson has been given by Providence 
to a castigated nation; it should not be 
suffered to pass, without that political and 
moral amelioration, which may be effected, 
without deranging machinery that requires 
nothing but care and attention, to perform 
its duties- with almost the same advan¬ 
tages as ever. 

It is impossible to, completely, remedy 
every consequence of the French revolu¬ 
tion, as it has affected England; for no¬ 
thing can restore rivers of blood that have 
flowed in vain; nothing can recall the 
millions so uselessly and profusely squan¬ 
dered ; nothing can check the course of 

rulers, and the severities of the laws are not suffi¬ 
cient wholly to prevent or cure.” But this is 
no argument for not adhering to our duty and 
disobeying the laws of our country. 

c 2 


XXX 


PREFACE. 


a destroyer, who now smiles-on a pyramid 
reared by evils of an horrific nature— (evils 
too which have, principally, been excited 
by England) but that Being, Who has per- 
mitted such circumstances to occur, has 
permitted them for His own wise purposes. 

If a political reform be wanting, the 
means of that reform are in the people's 
own hands, by their returning only pure 
and patriotic persons to the house. The 
writer trusts he shall be excused for a 
few remarks on this subject. 

%■ 

The several duties of mankind stand, in 
\ ' 

•* 

the following subordination to each other: 
]. our duty to God ; 2. our duty to man¬ 
kind ; 3. our duty to our country; 4. our 
duty to our family, friends, and neigh- 

"x ' ^ i 

hours; and 5. our duty to ourselves; 


i 


■PREFACE. 


XXXI 


consequently, we cun owe no duty, in any 
o f these cases, when that, which would 
otherwise be our duty, becomes inconsis¬ 
tent with any of those duties, to which it 
is subordinate. Now, with regard to the 
choice of members of parliament, it is 
certain, that our duty to our country, to 
mankind, and God Almighty, requires, 
that we should vote for those, who are 
the most likely and the most capable to 
serve their country in parliament: par¬ 
tiality to friends or neighbours should be, 

> i 

entirely, discarded, because the duty we 
owe our country is superior to the duty 
we owe our neighbours, or ourselves; and 
because, by acts contrary to the former 
dutv, we betray our country and injure the 
general community. To adopt the ener¬ 
getic words of an elegant writer, 


xxxu 


PREFACE. 


“ Reject, boldly, all, who attempt to buy 

your votes; they are but mercenary suit- 

% ' 

ors, who covet, only, to enlarge their for¬ 
tune, at the expence of their honour, and 
the interest of their country. 

“ Reject all, who have any place at 
court, or any employment in the disposal 
of the great officers of the crown; by such 
as these how can you hope to be repre¬ 
sented with fidelity? 

“ Reject all, who, earnestly, mendicate 
your voice; there is no good to be ex¬ 
pected from that quarter. If they had 
nothing at heart but the honour of serving 
the public, do you imagine, that they 
would submit to act such a disgraceful 
part? those humiliating intrigues are the 
transactions of vice, not of virtue. Merit,. 


PREFACE, XXXlij 

indeed, is fond of honourable distinctions; 
jet, satisfied with proving worthy of ther% 
it never debases itself to beg. them, but 
waits, till they are offered. 

Reject the insolent opulent. In this 
class are not to be found the few virtues,, 
which are left to stock the nation.. 

“ Reject young men ;, no confidence is 

# 

to be placed in them. Wholly given up 
to pleasure,, in this age of degeneracy, dis¬ 
sipation, amusements, and debauchery, are 
their only occupation; and, to support the 
expensive gaieties of the capital, they are 
ever ready to act with zeal, in the interests 
of a minister. Rut, supposing them not 
corrupt, they are but little acquainted 
with the national interest: besides, natu- 
rally incapable of a long-continued atten- 


XXXiv PREFACE. 

tion, they are impatient of restraint; they 
would have nothing to do bu A t<» give iheir 
votes; and cannot attend to whai they call 
the dry business ol the house, and fulfil 
the duties of a good senator. 

u Select for your representatives men 
distinguished by their ability, integrity, 
and love for their country; men versed in 
the national affairs ; men, whom an inde¬ 
pendent fortune secures from the tempta¬ 
tions of poverty, and a disdain of ruinous 
pageantry from the allurements of ambi¬ 
tion ; men, who have not been corrupted 
by the smiles of a court ; men, whose ve¬ 
nerable mature age crowns a spotless life; 
men, who have appeared zealous for the 
public cause, and have had in view only 
the welfare of their country, and the ob¬ 
servance of the laws. 


PREFACE. 


XXXV 


“ Confine not your choice to the can- 
dictates, who offer themselves; invite men 
worthy of that trust; wise men who desire 
to be your representatives, but cannot 
dispute that honour with the rich without 
merit, who labour, by bribes, to force it 
out of your hands. Do it in such a man¬ 
ner, that, for the pleasure of serving their 
country, they shall have no occasion to 
dread the ruin of their fortune, and scorn 
even to eat or drink, at prostituted ta¬ 
bles.” 

With respect to the elected, the man, 
who votes, according to the bias of a pur¬ 
chased vote, injures his country, by resign¬ 
ing his integrity, and wrongs his constitu¬ 
ents, by disregarding their interest. The 
truly patriotic and conscientious man can 
recognize no other sentiment, than the 

•s o 


XXXVI 


PREFACE. 


good of his country : but he, who acts con¬ 
trary to its dictates, may continue to be a 
member of parliament, but he deserves 
not the seat he so unjustly occupies. Even, 
in his opposition to public men and pub¬ 
lic measures, he, (the real lover of his 
country), will be liberal, upright, and can¬ 
did. He will applaud the wise plans of 
the minister, and condemn only those that 
are really injurious; without aiming to 

possess a share in administration, or look- 

* ♦ 

ing to be soothed, like another Cerberus* 

While places, pensions, honours, grants, 
or promises, can prevail so far with indi¬ 
viduals, as to make a majority of them, the 
humble servants of those, who have such 
baits to throw out,'where is the boasted se¬ 
curity against corruption? Will not 1300 
individuals be, equally, tangible, and pos- 


PREFACE. 


XXXV U 


sees the same principles of human nature 
as 648? Oh no! say the reformists; an 
importation of fresh individuals will pro¬ 
duce a favourable change, and the whole 
body will become immaculate! 

After the strict performance of the du¬ 
ties, incumbent on the electors and elected, 

“ if,” to use the w r ords of Sir John Throck¬ 
morton, “ the house of commons did but 

t 

do their duty—if they proved themselves 
the vigilant guardians of the public purse 
—the unwearied persecutors of all public 
abuses—the relentless foes of all public 
peculators, be their rank or connexions 
what they might—if they shelved them¬ 
selves, at all times, eager to detect and pu¬ 
nish every attempt to barter their repre¬ 
sentation—if they did all this, it would be 
a vain attempt to try to bring them into 


XXXV 111 


PREFACE. 


disrepute, for it would be impossible to 
do so.” 

To conclude in the words of Mr. Hume. 

“ It is well known, that every govern¬ 
ment must come to a period; and that 
death is unavoidable, to the political, as 
well as to the natural body. But, as one 
kind of death is preferable to another, it 
may be enquired, whether it be more de¬ 
sirable tor the English government to 
terminate in a popular government, or an 
absolute monarchy? With respect to the 
former, although liberty is to be preferred 
to slavery, in almost every case, it must 
depend on the nature of the republic; 
which, if popular , may be deemed more 
perfect than absolute monarchy or our 
present constitution. But what reason 


PREFACE. 


XXXIX 


have we to expect such a perfect govern¬ 
ment in this country? supposing monarchy 
to be even dissolved—if any single person 
acquires power enough to take our con¬ 
stitution to pieces, and set up a new one,, 
he is really an absolute monarch; and 
we have, already, had an instance (in 
Oliver Cromwell), that such a person 
will never resign his power or establish a 
free government. Matters, therefore, must 
be left to their natural progress and oper¬ 
ation, and the House of Commons is such 
a popular government. If the House of 
Commons then dissolve itself, we may 
look for a- civil war, at every election ;< if 
it continue itself, we shall suffer all the 
tyranny of a faction, continually subdi¬ 
vided into new factions: and, as such a 
violent government cannot last, we shall, 
at length, after infinite convulsions, find 

d 


PREFACE. 


lx 

repose in absolute monarchy, which it 
would have been happier for us to have 
established, peaceably, at the beginning. 
Absolute monarchy is, therefore, the easi¬ 
est death, the true Euthanasia of the 
British constitution. Thus we have rea¬ 
son to be more jealous of monarchy, be¬ 
cause the danger is most imminent from 
that quarter: we have also reason to be 
jealous of popular government, because 
that danger is more terrible. This may 
teach us a lesson of moderation, in all our 
political controversies.” 

With reference to the publication be¬ 
fore the reader, the writer has only to ob¬ 
serve: 

u Quodpotui feci: faciant meliora pofentes 

Ci Valeat quantum valcre potest!” 

London, January, 1811. 


CONSEQUENCES 

OF THE 


FRENCH REVOLUTION. 



CHAPTER I. 


Immediate Consequences of the French Re¬ 
volution to England. 

» 

The first bursting of the French revo¬ 
lution, in 1789., was like that of a volcano; 

r « 

whose fires have been long pent up, in 
their secret caverns, only to accumulate 
fresh fuel for a wider devastation. 


Long before this awful event, indubi¬ 
table presages of it had taken place, on 
various occasions; but the American war, 
from 1775 to 1783, in which French per- 


« 


3 


2 

My was more than commonly ready to 
assist the disjunction of the colonies from 
their parent stock, added to the acknow¬ 
ledgement of their independence by Eng¬ 
land at the general peace in the latter 
year, hastened the expansion of the shoot- 
in^ germs of liberty, and finally called forth 
their luxuriant foliage. For, on the return 
of those troops, which France had sent to 
aid the colonists, they bore with them to 
their native shores the seeds of mischief, 
which soon reared themselves to ail unna¬ 
tural height, and have since over-sha¬ 
dowed the whole of Europe with anarchy 
and confusion.* 

The emancipation of one nation from 
a state of bondage became an example 

* Were the mind ready to devote itself to super¬ 
stitious ideas, it might easily fancy, that the fiery 
meteor which passed over England in 1783, was 
the precursor of a conflagration, then ready to shew 
itself, and ominous of those evils, which afterwards 
occurred to her. Under all circumstances, the 
coincidence was very extraordinary. 


3 


9 


to France, too powerful to be resisted. 
She had witnessed the useless attempts, 
even of mighty England, to restrain her 
colonies, and conceived that the possibility 
of relieving herself, from real and imagi¬ 
nary oppressions, was no less feasible. 
The precedent was a seductive one, and 

she embraced it. 

0 

In looking at circumstances, which have 
had such a singular influence on the state 
of Europe, it is impossible not to see the 
concatenation of events that gradually led 
to the French revolution. There was a 
system, even from its very earliest dawn 
to its final setting in a Corsican dynasty ,* 
that rendered each circumstance but the 
harbinger to one grand end, the exhibition 
of a lesson, that should teach mankind, 
and effectually too, not to expect that per- 

* It is very singular, but no less true, that, by 
a transposition of the words u Revolution 

Francaise,” the sentence u Un Corse la finira-,”' 

/ 

will be produced. 


N. / 



4t 


% 


lection in political institutions, which is 
unattainable by those who frame them. 

Had England listened to the sage dic¬ 
tates of the immortal Chatham, to concili¬ 
ate America, instead of adopting violent 
measures to compel her obedience, 
France would have had no motive, arising 
from her resistance, to negociate an of¬ 
fensive and defensive treaty, that demand¬ 
ed the necessity of her troops in a trans-at- 
lantic clime: in which case, America might 
have been still an appendage of Britain; 
the French revolution might not have 
occurred ; and Europe, at this moment, 
might have been upheld by her antient 
balance. 

It appears then, that England, by inat¬ 
tention to a conciliatory policy towards 
America, aroused her to resistance; that 
that resistance inspirited France to widen 
the breach by military succours; and that 
those succours, in the course of service, im- 


i 


bibed ideas, which spread like wildfire on 
their return to Europe, and speedily led 
to the combustion of their unhappy and 
distracted country. 

From this era may be dated the first 
visible decline of England. In subscribing 
to a peace with revolted subjects, she gave 
such a direct proof of weakness, that we 
can no longer w onder at her subsequent 
x failures. But the mischief did not termi¬ 
nate here, for this very weakness neces¬ 
sarily corroborated France in her inten¬ 
tion to throw off the yoke, by proving 
what a whole people, determined to be 
free, may effect against a power, deter¬ 
mined to subdue them: and, perhaps, it 
may not be assuming too much to assert, 
that Europe has just cause to rue the day, 
on which the gauntlet of defiance w r as 
thrown at the head of America; for, on that 
day, a second Pandora’s box was opened, 
to disquiet mankind with gigantic evils. 

» 3 




6 

% 

/ • - - 

Soon after the signature of this peace 

with America,* Mr. Pitt, in 1784, com- 

* Although this circumstance betrayed the 
feebleness of England, it has not yet tended to the 
firm establishment in America of ademocratical go. 
Tcrnment, (a solecism in politics which is more spe¬ 
cious to the eye than capable of practice, as has 
been very evident, immediately under our own 
eyes, in the case of France ;) for it is impossible to 
term that government firm or established, the 
members of whose legislative body impugn the autho¬ 
rity of their president, and cannot debate w’ith 
civilized forbearance, or venture to contradict each 
other, without incurring the risk of paying the 
penalty of life in a savage duel. These irregu¬ 
larities and departures from the forms and cere¬ 
monies of enlightened habitudes, must, and ever will, 
be the result of democratical preponderance in any 
state. It has been already tried in England, but 
to so little purpose, that the return of monarchy 
became an object of the most anxious solicitude; 
solicitude indeed, so blind to the opportunity of 
redressing grievances, and so eager to elevate its 
idol, that no monarch, amongst those who have worn 
the English crown, w’as ever presented with a more 
extensive curie blanche to act as he pleased than 
Charles II. 


I 


menced liis ministerial career, and peace 
continued between all the belligerents un- 
til 1789; but it was merely a deceitful 
calm, antecedent to the great contrast of a 
stormy sea, and the interval was passed 
in awe, commensurate with the highly 
awakened expectations of a mighty convul¬ 
sion, that was doomed not merely to re¬ 
volutionize a single nation, but to agitate 
the world to its very centre. 

During this interval, Mr. Pitt was not 
blind to the dangers, so rapidly ap¬ 
proaching. Calling up all the energies of 
his capacious mind, he endeavoured to 
provide means and resources, for combating 
the storm that he could not but foresee; 
and, although England may lament his im¬ 
proper use of these resources, she cannot 
but confess, that, in increasing the national 
debt,* he also formed a counteracting 

* From the year 1690 to the present period, 
(and it setrus likely, from apparent circumstances, 


. * 

fund to abate it too, thus establishing a 
paradox, by augmenting, on one hand, and 
decreasing, on another, in an inverted 
ratio. 

In 1792 and 1793, two acts, one for 
ascertaining the rights of juries, and the 
other for preventing traitorous corres¬ 
pondence, were deemed necessary; and 
they, certainly, were so, in consequence ot 

» * 

that the system will go on- ad infinitum,) Eng¬ 
land has been, habitually, contracting debt; the na¬ 
tion has groaned under it, and the interest amounts, 
at this day, to more than Ten times the amount of 
her whole revenue, when that practice began. By 
Mr. Pitt’s establishment of a sinking fund, twenty- 
four years since, her annual resources were happily 
rendered equal to her annual expenditure ; other¬ 
wise the nation must have been long since cngnlph- 
ed in bankruptcy. At the commencement of the 
American war, in 1775, the national debt amounted 
to 125'millions; in 1779, it extended to 144 mil¬ 
lions ; and, on Mr. Pitt’s taking the helm in 1784, 
it had swollen to 228 millions;—its further increase 
will be hereafter noticed. 


9 


* 


the leaven of a new philosophy then fer¬ 
menting in England, which, if permitted to 
work, might have overflowed the venerable 

1 o 

constitution of England, and either sunk 
it to the lowest abyss of revolutionary 
pollution, or totally destroyed a fabric, 
which our ancestors had combined toge- 
ther, for so many ages, to perfect and 
complete. 

So far Mr. Pitt was right: but the 
same cannot be said qf his subsequent 
proceedings, which, although not inten¬ 
tionally wrong, were diametrically oppo¬ 
site to his former prudence, and irrecon- 
cileable, in many respects, with the just 
view he originally took of the conse¬ 
quences, to be apprehended from French 
regeneration. 

It is easy, without doubt, to pass judg¬ 
ment on circumstances that have occur¬ 
red, because their tendency and result 
are plainly discoverable; and we are 




10 

more apt to form our opinions by the 
event, than by estimating the motives, 
which gave it birth: it therefore becomes 
an imperious and liberal duty to tread de¬ 
licately on the failings of those who have 
preceded us, from the impossibility to say, 
if we should not have committed much 
greater errors, under % a similar predica¬ 
ment. These remarks are strictly ap¬ 
plicable to Mr. Pitt, and, swayed by 
their justice, the writer will now enter 
on the immediate subject of this chapter. 

/The celebrated letter of Lord Grenville 
' to M. Chauvelin in 1793, which abruptly 
and unadvisedly provoked* the imagined 

* It has been asserted by many, that France first 
commenced war against England, and, to prove the 
assertion, they adduce the circumstance of Sweden, 
■when the treaty of Pilnitz was entered into, offer¬ 
ing to send her contingent of troops, provided 

England would not molest their passage by sea. 

» » 

Could this assertion be confirmed by fact, the ne¬ 
cessity of England’s entering into a war with 


11 


necessity of a war with the French re¬ 
public, and the irritating proclamation of 
the Duke of Brunswick, conspired, with 
the fatal result of the American war, to 
occasion those miseries, which have since 
desolated the face of Europe, and, after * 
the lapse of sixteen years, passed in 
almost unabated contention and fruitless 
coalitions, to place France on a tower¬ 
ing height, and conduct England to the 
brink of a precipice. The policy of these 
steps was exceedingly questioned, at the 
time, by well-wishers to their country, but 
by none more than Mr. Fox, who constantly 

France might rest on some foundation, as her po¬ 
litical importance and national dignity, in the view 
of the world, could not permit any blow to be 
levelled at her, without resenting the indignity 
offered. But it does not seem probable, that 
France should have been the aggressor, when the 
instructions given to M. Chauvelin, to conciliate 
peace with England, almost on any terms, and her 
unwillingness to resort to war, when that war be- 
came unavoidable, arc duly considered. 


12 


deprecated the idea of hostility to France, 
and counselled the non-interference of 
England with a power, which, when Eng¬ 
land was placed almost under similar 
circumstances, in the convulsed times ot 
Charles I. did not intermeddle with her 
intestine divisions, but permitted the 
struggle to take place, without dictating 
her form of government. 

Succeeding events have proved the wis¬ 
dom of Mr. Fox’s anticipations, which 
were neglected and scorned at the time 
they were made, but have been since too 
fatally verified ; and, had he lived, he 
might have, in some measure, remedied 
the result of his apprehensions : but, in 
admitting the wisdom of his political pre¬ 
science, it must be allowed, that the ra¬ 
ging fire of the revolution required no 
common efforts to quench its baleful in¬ 
fluence, and to prevent the dissemination 
of principles, foreign to real liberty, and 
consequently to happiness. 


is 


The spectacle of the spontaneous libera¬ 
tion of a whole nation from the bonds of ‘ 
slavery was animating and noble, and the 
heart of man could not but rejoice at the 
destruction of a Bastile, and the abolition 
of lettres de cachet: but, when liberty be¬ 
came a mere watchword to allure thought- 

o 

lessness to a participation in schemes, 
ostensibly meant for the national amelio¬ 
ration, but privately intended to enslave 
the kingdom ; when the wilful forgetfulness 
of a Deity,* the downfall of thrones, and 
the overthrow of every antient usage and 
establishment, however respectable, began 
to develope themselves; when, in every 
French envoy might be descried the in¬ 
strument of propagating such tenets, as, 

“ that happiness and monarchy w ere com¬ 
plete contraries, and that abuses existed 
in every government, which should be recti¬ 
fied it became absolutely incumbent on 
every wise statesman to close the door of 

* See Dr. Faber on the prophecies that have been 
fulfilled, and are now fulfilling. 

C 


14 


mischief, and to avoid, as a pestilence, 
every contact that could convey the con¬ 
tagious disease of a new-fangled philosophy. 
But, here was his “ ultima Thulefor a 
M ar by no means folloMed as a necessary 
corollary of the premises, and certainly 
not an offensive M ar. In warding off the 
blow of republican and levelling principles, 
Mr. Pitt would have shielded the indepen¬ 
dence, happiness, and morals of his coun¬ 
try, from total subversion, if not from cou- 
tamination: but, in waging Mar against a 
nation, that Mas determined to proceed 
in a particular career, argued a forgetful¬ 
ness of the general obstinacy of human 
nature ; which, if left to itself, M ill gradu¬ 
ally tend to rational schemes; but, forced 
and driven, will prosecute the path of error, 
merely, because an attempt is made to dis¬ 
suade it from it. 

In such circumstances, precisely, were 
Prance and England placed, at the French 
evolution. France had determined to eman- 


15 


upate herself, at all hazards, and, as is cus¬ 
tomary in all popular ebullitions, anarchy 
and licentiousness marked her approaches 


to the freedom she sought: to oppose her 
progress was to place a pigmy, in resist¬ 
ance to a giant, and to force her into 
quiescence was like endeavouring to stop a 
mighty torrent, with the pressure of a hand. 
The cement of her old foundations was 
completely liquefied, and nothing could 
restore an efficient building, but patience, 
and an apparent indifference to all the 
varying oppositions of parlies, alike aia> 
ing at the possession of authority. 


This carelessness of her counteracting 
projects would have effected infinitely more 
than could have been reasonably hoped 
from the most vigorous and successful 
war; and these parties would have fallen 
and risen, and fallen and risen again, 
until, tired of confusion and convinced of 
the necessity of some rallying point,, the 
good, wise, and really patriotic of every 
party would have combined together for 


» 


16 


the restoration of harmony, decency, and 
order to their bleeding land, which, spring¬ 
ing like the phoenix from the ashes of his 
former body, would have been hailed as 
the harbingers of real happiness. 

But, when one nation presumes to dic¬ 
tate ' to another, that is equally powerful, 
and prescribes a government and circum¬ 
stances, which it must, perforce, adopt, 
what must be the consequence? all par¬ 
ties of that nation, however varying in 
their politics and plans, are condensed to¬ 
gether to resist the clanger that threatens 
their general extinction, and, forgetting 
their animosities, they league, only against 
what they conceive to be their common 
enemy. The physical powers of each 
party, before scattered in search of vari¬ 
ous objects, and consequently weak, are 
thus concentred into one focus, that in¬ 
stantly attracts even the lukewarm and 
indifferent within its scope. 


“ Divide et impera," is an adage well 


known to the politician, and never was 
there one more founded on truths or more 
reconrileable to the sense of man: not, that 
the writer means to argue, that the con^ 
dieting parties in France should have been 
sustained, in their opposition to each other, 
by the bribes of England; but, that France 
should have been left to her own inclina-- 
tions and guidance, and permitted to tra¬ 
vel the road she was bent on going, with¬ 
out the officious meddling of any of her 
neighbours. All that it was necessary to do, 
as has been before intimated, was to close 
every avenue to communication with her 
bloated and disordered frame; like the 
ship, returned from a pestilential climate, 
she should have been placed in the strictest 
quarantine, until circumstances couldjustify 
the renewal of civilized connections. Had 
this policy been adopted, the lesson, that 
France now affords, would have been taught 
more speedily, and England, with other 
nations, would not have to deplore their 
present deteriorated state. What France 


IS 


now is, after the transit of twenty years, 
she might have been, except with respect 
to territorial acquisitions, in as many 
months, and perhaps too under her legiti¬ 
mate monarch ; and had England but per¬ 
mitted the storm to waste itself, without 
aiming to repress the raging elements; 
had she barricadoed every possibility of 
approach to her inmost vitals, without 
sporting with a moral convulsion, or em¬ 
bracing the false policy of unnecessarily 
plunging into the abyss of a continental war; 
and, preserving the manly posture of de¬ 
termined intrepidity, which neither permits 
insult, nor offers to inflict it, had she pre¬ 
sented the stern front of indignation at the 
excesses committed, chastened by the mild 
dictates of pity for the lamentable caprices 
of an infatuated nation ;* forbearance might 
have tamed the ferocity of the tiger, and 
gradually softened it to milder habits; and 
the sportive tricks of the monkey would 

* ‘ c Quern pcrderevult Deus, prius dcmenta!.” 


19 


have been played again, after the eccentric 
vagaries of the philosophical comet had 
glided into those regions, where first it ori¬ 
ginated. 

But who can prognosticate the end of 
present events, or who dive into the myste¬ 
ries of the future, to gain the record of 
what is wisely concealed from human vi¬ 
sion?—we may anticipate, but can we com¬ 
mand the circumstances we expect ? we 
may aspire to foreknowledge, but will not 
futurity still be equally unknown to us ? All 
that finite man can do, is to use every ex¬ 
ertion to avoid the path of certain evil, 
and to follow that, which may lead to the 
most probable good: committing the event 
to that Providence, which superintends and 
directs every thing, for the eventual happi¬ 
ness of mortals, 

, • , r 

^ 1 » lit i. II J'tZi 

That Mr. Pitt conceived he had chosen 
the path, best calculated for the preserva¬ 
tion of England, in the storm that threat- 


r 


£0 


ened her, no one, the writer trusts, will 
venture to deny: his whole life was spent 
in ceaseless exertions for her imagined ad* 
vantage, and his death was occasioned by 
the complete failure of his hopes and ex¬ 
pectations. But ill success is no criterion 
to appreciate motives, that solely pro* 
ceeded from the best intentions; and re* 
probation should not be stamped on mere 
disaster, when a “ prava mens’* did not oc¬ 
casion it. If Mr. Pitt erred, he sinned 
not against conviction, for he acted, as he 
thought, for the best; and, however England 
may have just cause to deplore his unfor¬ 
tunate determinations, which, it must be 
confessed, have dug the graves of many a 
power, she may lament his rashness, with¬ 
out calling his intentions into disrepute. 
At all events, he weathered the storm of the 
French revolution, by strong remedies; but 
such remedies alone, with his system of 
action, could save his country from ship¬ 
wreck. 


I 




Having made an allusion to these reme¬ 
dies, it may not be uninteresting to take a 
cursory view of those circumstances, which 
particularly required such innovations on 
the constitution, as continual suspensions 
ot the habeas corpus ajctp* incarceration 

4 * - 

* The habeas corpus act was suspended in 1777 , 
for the first time in his majesty’s reign ; since which 
its suspension has been necessarily frecpient, in the 
writer’s opinion, because it did not arise from any 
design to enslave the nation, but to prevenl 
it from being overwhelmed by revolutionary delu¬ 
sions: but, nevertheless, it may not be unnecessary to 
remark, that the word u innovations,” mentioned in 
the text, is properly used, according to Sir Edward 
Coke ; who says, The statute of magna charta 
hath been confirmed, above thirty times, and is the 
foundation of all acts of parliament.” And further, 
that, at the confirmation of magna charta by Ed*, 
ward I. it was expressly declared, that 66 Any sta¬ 
tute or act, which should any way repeal or infringe 
any article or thing, contained in the said great char¬ 
ter, should be for ever null and void, any thing 
to the contrary in such statute or act notwith¬ 
standing.” (Vide Coke upon Littleton.) It may^ 
therefore, be justly presumed, that, as magna 


22 


on mere suspicion ; and bills to prevent al¬ 
most the slightest assemblage. 

. t 

The love of liberty and a fondness for 
novelty are inseparable from man; pos¬ 
sessed only of a limited sphere, he delights 
in diversifying that sphere by every means; 
and, in selecting those means, he is fre¬ 
quently more enamoured with the gratifi¬ 
cation of his wishes, than cautious of the 
consequences, which his pursuits may oc¬ 
casion. 

The dawn of the French revolution, like 
an April sun, promised an infinity of sun¬ 
shine, and not a thought was given to the 

charta, orehartade Forcsta, entitles Englishmen 
to particular benefits, they cannot be deprived of 
them by an act of parliament. The violation, then, 
of these rights and liberties is no otherwise justi¬ 
fiable, than under such circumstances as Mr. Pitt 
had to encounter; and these circumstances, the 
writer fondly hopes, for the honour of his coun¬ 
trymen, will never again occur. 


probability of storms, showers, and an 
overclouded horizon. The idea of equa¬ 
lity was imposing from its novelty, and ea¬ 
gerly imbibed, particularly by the discon¬ 
tented, from a principle of emulation, so 
generally inherent in the human breast; 
'which likes not superiority of any species, 
and either envies or aspires to the quali¬ 
ties, which denote it. 

But, however seducing in theory, the sys¬ 
tem of equality is impossible in practice. 
Can we expect that in man, w hich w e do not 
witness in the face of nature, or in animals ? 
Are there not hills and vallies? and are there 
not greater and lesser brutes? and, even in 
man, who is blessed with reason, a supe¬ 
rior attribute, can we find tw r o countenances, 
exactly alike; or tw o minds, equally gifted 
with talents and capacity ? If there be this 
dissimilarity in inanimate and animate ob¬ 
jects, how can we expect similitude, in op¬ 
posite and conflicting emotions; in multi¬ 
tudinous pursuits that, all, have a distinct 
object in view’, and a separate tendency? 


24 

If all were to be rich, the necessary la¬ 
bours of industry would be at a perfect 
stand; if all were to be poor, the rational 
advantages of wealth could no longer dif¬ 
fuse themselves in useful ramifications; if 
all were to assume the reins of power, the 
ends of civilization would be totally de¬ 
feated: indeed, to suppose the possibility 
of a levelling system, we must conceive an 
airy fabric, that may be imagined, but ne¬ 
ver can present a solid appearance to him 
who builds it. Providence, in point of 
equality, has done infinitely more for 
man than he can ever eifect, by a thou¬ 
sand changes and attempts, however di¬ 
versified. 

The value of liberty, and the expansive 
ideas that accompany it, are no where 
experienced more, or reverenced less, than 
in England. Liberty is an Englishman’s 
birthright, which renders him the envy as 
well as the admiration of the world, and it 
is *&n invaluable privilege, which no pos- 


25 


sessions can purchase; no barter can be 
exchanged for; and no prize can be ac¬ 
cepted as an equivalent. Such being the 
fortunate fate of Englishmen, it is by no 
means wonderful, that the dissipation of 
the spell, which bound France in a state of 
abjectedness, should prove congenial to 
those, who tasted and enjoyed that liberty, 
which, with respect to France, was a new 
sensation. The liberal and benevolent 
hailed, with gladness, the probability of in¬ 
creased happiness to their fellow-beings, 
and they rejoiced to see the likelihood of 
her participation in those blessings that 
were enjoyed by themselves. 

But, in indulging these benevolent sen¬ 
timents, the warmth of approbation min¬ 
gled itself, in too many, with a wish, to aim 
at improvements of their own state; and 
the effusive rays of ideal liberty, proving too 
powerful for the sober tints of real freedom, 
temporarily threw into the back ground 
every recollection of peculiar privileges. 


D 


which, in fact, had been enjoyed too long, 

- « _ f 

to’be adequately valued. To this unfor¬ 
tunate predilection for English regenera¬ 
tion, as well as French, may be ascribed 
most of the Strong measures resorted to by 
Mr. Pitt, to heal a proclivity to theoretical 
experiments, which, had he permitted their 
trial, might have finally subverted the con¬ 
stitution.* 

* Suspensions of (lie habeas corpus act, the pri- 
mum mobile of English liberty, and the treason 
and sedition bills, were necessarily the consequence 
of the propagation of false principles by the ad¬ 
mirers of the French Revolution ; and these strong 
measures were absolutely required, because no 
other would have been efficient to repress the ten¬ 
dency to discord, and keep the furious monster 
down. But the designing and wicked took care to 
insinuate, that such encroachments and violations of 
the established constitution, were attacks on liber¬ 
ty, and finally meant to enslave the nation : cau¬ 
tiously, at the same time, spreading the ideas, that 
men are very unhappy under a monarchy ; that 
there were great abuses in England ; and that every 
government should undergo a change, as Europe 

• t * r • . ■ r 

was in a state of complete putrescence, and, like the 


Z7 

Senseless ! inconsiderate men ! if they 
aimed at the good of their country, was the 
object to be effected, by wielding a fire¬ 
brand in one hand, and administering a cup 

snake, must quit its slough, in order to acquire 
new life and vigour. 

Led astray by these artful opinions, which were 
conveyed by sophistry of the most seducing nature, 
and in language but too well calculated to effect its 
purpose, many, besides those who were actually 
discontented, became ready to receive the impres¬ 
sion wished for. Like ductile wax, their senses 
assumed the required form, and when fixed, it was. 
difficult to alter the shape, without again melting 
the original materials. A fatal indulgence in thes* 
fallacious contemplations soon led to civil dissen- 
tions, heart-burnings, feuds, and animosities ; which 
distracted the government, at the very moment 
when the utmost unanimity should have prevailed, 
and almost split England asunder with domestic 
contentions, when each heart should have beeiv 
animated but by one reflection, that a moral re* 
sistance of the principles, levelled by France at 
every thing holy, sacred,’and'vcnerable, was indis¬ 
pensable, without reference to the policy or impo¬ 
licy of warlike measures. 

I) 2 


2$ 


of poison with the other? was it patriotism* 
was it public virtue, that would have le¬ 
velled every barrier between them and the 
heights they aspired to;, that would have- 
murdered a beloved monarch ; and surren¬ 
dered their country into the arms of France, 
of that very France, which their ancestors 
had formerly conquered?* such men, it may 
be answered, were a disgrace to the name 
of Englishmen, and merited not the bless¬ 
ings of an invaluable constitution; such 
men, by striving to set themselves above all 
law, decency, and order, were entitled 
to no favour from their injured coun¬ 
try; and such men, although they boast¬ 
ed eternally of political justice and immu¬ 
table rights, were wilful alienators of that 
real justice, and those invaluable rights, 

* Twelve provinces of France were, exclusively, 
possessed by the English in former periods, without 
mentioning their remoter influence ; and Henry the 
Sixth, it must be well known, was crowned King 
of France in Paris. 


29 


which so much exalt England above every 

other country in this lower world. 

, * 

Could these mad-headed enthusiasts, or 
rather traitors, have been subjected, alone, 
to those punishments, which their crimes so 
justly demanded; could their more inno¬ 
cent and peaceful countrymen have been 
spared from partaking of those evils, which 
their conduct occasioned ; it would have 
been impossible to regret the extent or na¬ 
ture of the merited infliction. But, unfortu¬ 
nately, as is too frequently the case, the in¬ 
nocent were involved with the guilty in one 
common punishment, and the whole suf¬ 
fered for the offences of a part. 

* 

To English reformers then, and not en¬ 
tirely to Mr. Pitt, are to be attributed the 
absolute necessity of a resort to the pre¬ 
scription of violent medicines, and many 
of the present complicated evils, under 
which England so grievously labours. Had 

D 3 


30 


Englishmen been satisfied with the rare ad- 
vantages they possessed; had they been 
contented to admire, but not to imitate* 
the French example; and had they but 
waited patiently to see the developement 
of the tragic drama, then acting on the 
theatre of Europe, which would have ef¬ 
fectually convinced them of the futility of 
their expectations, the awe-inspiring events 
(that have clothed almost every country 
in the weeds of sorrow; that have scat¬ 
tered their inflictions on the whole of Eu¬ 
rope ; that have divested the kingly 
brow of its radiant circle, and given it to 
upstarts; that, in their freaks, have lifted 
mendicity from obscurity, into the glare of 
exalted notice and distinguished conside¬ 
ration might not have occurred, and 

* These words have been exceedingly used in 
latter years, by diplomatists, to express, but not to 
convey their high sense of each other’s merits, and 
originally sprung, like many other modern customs*. 


51 


the dissipated millions of England would 
not have been called for by extreme tax¬ 
ations. 

But, hurried, by the unnatural inclinations 
of his countrymen, into unnatural measures, 
Mr. Pitt was compelled to pass those limits, 
which magna charta had defined between 
the monarch and his people; and, having 
once passed them, for what he thought the 
public good, he had no other alternative, 
but to give way to the prejudices of those, 
who resisted his remedies, or, by more 
daring exertions, to quench the flame. 

The course he chose, that of war, was 
not calculated to allay the popular dis- 


without sense or reason, from the French revolution: 
it is to be hoped, however, that, in the next negotia- 
tion with France, England will adopt the manly 
terms of her own energetic language, without bor¬ 
rowing finical phrases from her bitterest enemy. 


quiet; it commenced in error, continued 
in necessity, and terminated, except in- 
one respect,* in discomfiture and dis¬ 
appointment : from this moment every 
step he took was only to fresh perils- 
and accumulating dangers; on one side. 

O O' i 7 

he witnessed the menaces of intestine di¬ 
visions ; on the other, the threats of a 
foe, rendered infuriate by the unexpected 
success of her enthusiastic armies, and 
bent on the annihilation of every thing rest¬ 
ing on an antique basis. The piospect 
was dreary, dark, and dubious ; and, when 
he had lopped one head of the hydra that 
opposed him, another instantly sprung up 
to defeat his projects: in short, like Atlas, 
he had to sustain the weight of a whole 
world, or rather to prop the long-tried esta¬ 
blishments of monarchy, virtue, and reli- 

* The* preservation of the monarchy—a monar¬ 
chy, which, the writer trusts, will long flourish with 
verdure, that shall know no diminution from fo-* 
reign or intestine foes. 


S3 


gion, against the assailments of innovation, 
immorality, and atheistical doctrines. 

A weaker mind than his would have 
been daunted at the terrifying combination 
of successive events, each more trying than 
the former, that thwarted his course; 
but, collecting all his powers, and they 
were no common ones, he escaped those 
horrible scenes, w hich, but for his political 
intrepidity, must have marred the fair face 
of Britain with a civil war: but this victory 
was not effected w ithout a loss, proportion¬ 
ed to the danger of the achievement. If 
he had controuled the persons, he could 
not command the minds of his country¬ 
men ; w hich had drank deep of the philo¬ 
sophical spring, and acquired ideas and 
principles of strange import, and subversive 
of those civil, religious, and moral tenets, 
that are the best friends of human nature : 
indeed, as has been remarked before, it 
w’oulrl have been singular, if England had 
entirely escaped the effects of a poison, 


34 


that was conveyed by jacobinism, in ever} 
form in which it could be administered. 

Had there been a rational cause for the 
breathings of discontent and the whisper¬ 
ings of faction ; had the blissful clime ol 
England been the land of slavery, and had 
her natives been bound hand and foot in 
heavy irons; had her king been a despot, and 
her nobility tyrants; had the sighings of the 
poor and the broken-hearted been uttered 
in vain; the complaining voice might have 
been elevated with justice, and a rescue 
from such heart-rending evils would have 
been “ a consummation devoutly to be 

J 

wish'd for:” but, it is painful to confess that, 
England could plead no such apologies as 
these. England was (and is) not the land 
of slavery ; nor were her inhabitants op¬ 
pressed with bondage » nor was her justly 
to be revered king a despot; nor her nobi- 
like feudal barons; nor were the tears of 
the low and suffering cruelly neglec ted. 


55 


What then could urge Englishmen to 
complaints, founded on a false foundation, 
but the influence, too nearly brought home, 
of depraved example, and a restleness of 
spirit, which hurried its votaries into acts 
of folly, that were lamented, when the 
power of rectification did not exist. 

When posterity shall read a future his¬ 
tory of the past, and scan over those 
events, to which nothing has been similar 
in the annals of the world, they will pause 
to admire the generous emotions expressed 
by their ancestors, at the glorious sight of a 
whole nation springing, by one simultaneous 
volition, into the day of liberty : but, when 
they read of their unreasonable desires and 
pampered discontents, which pined for a 
change, because that change might produce 
the variety they aimed at, and were continued 
to be shewn too, even when the objects, in 
their view were palpably wrong; posterity, 
the writer conceives, must sigh at the contra- 


36 


dictions of human nature, and feel, unhap¬ 
pily,assured, that no state or condition, how¬ 
ever advantageous, can yield contentment 
to thankless bosoms, or prevent those, who 
are determined to quit the shore of long 
experienced stability, for the stormy coast 
of doubts and uncertainty, from daring th*. 
ruin and shipwreck that stare them in the 
face. 

rt . fy ' • 

Such ever must be the consequences of 
a blind surrender to the idle fancies of 
theoretical improvement, which, in gazing 
at the enchanting prospects of a fairy 
landscape, see not the small cloud at a 
distance, that rapidly gets larger as 
they approach towards it, and soon en- 
1 velopes the whole scene in horrid obscu¬ 
rity. Frightened at the thunder that rolls 
ovel' their heads, and scared at the light¬ 
ning that gleams around, the wanderers 
hastily seek the shelter they have so wan¬ 
tonly abandoned: they find it, but that 


37 


shelter is no longer the same; for, in 
their absence from the duties of their 
station, its roof has become pervious to 
the injuries of the weather:* with 
bodies completely enervated, with minds 
deeply tainted with impure reflections, 
and with considerations of the future 
not a little darkened by reflections on 
the past, they are forced, by necessity, to 
pay an instantaneous attention to speedy 
remedies; but, what can effectually re¬ 
trieve the miscarriages of wilful aberra¬ 
tion, or restore the composure which they 
formerly enjoyed ? The thought, that 
they have erred, and erred too, against 
conviction, is for ever rising to dissi¬ 
pate serenity; and, finding it impossible 

* * --S' 4 

* It would be folly lo deny, that repealed in¬ 
fringements of Magna Charta did not injure the 
constitution this essential bulwark of English 
liberties was meant to preserve. The force of a 
lever may be lessened in time by continual strain¬ 
ing, which necessarily shivers the timber and wears 
out its solidity. 


K 


to acquire the blessings that satisfied 
minds could formerly bestow, they either 
give way to illusory amusements, with 
the vain hope of obtaining some respite 
from the disquietudes of their hearts, or 
rush headlong to destruction in ' a worse 
path than they formerly pursued. 


These moral observations have been 
purposely introduced, in order to deduce 
a political comparison, and to prove the 
immediate effects of the French revolu- 

y. , f t ♦ , 4 , , . ’ v ., 

tion on English temperaments ; which, 
habituated more than those of any other 
nation to contemplative disquisitions, 
eagerly imbibed ideas of liberty, too 
warm and impassioned to agree with rea¬ 
son. r I hese fascinating ideas were accom- 
panied by principles, that stole into the 


soul and took the masterv, ere the senses 

of-, i r. i ■ i 

could resist the dangerous encroachment; 
and, united together, they tended, no 
doubt, to awaken expectations of poli¬ 
tical perfection, incompatible with exis- 


39 


tence, and poisoned the happiness, cor¬ 
rupted the morals, and weakened the ef¬ 
fects of early inculcations in those, who 
laved in the stream of democratical reve¬ 
ries. 

The habitudes, acquired by superiors, 
were communicated to inferiors, in whom 
they took a deep root, because the lower 
classes of society naturally wish for some 
distinction: until, at length, a general 
laxity of manners, a public contempt for 
respectable customs, and the ridicule of 
decency, became so fashionable, in all 
classes, as to convert England into a hot¬ 
bed for the cultivation of exotic poisons. 

Under these circumstances, nothing, but 
the decisive measures of Mr. Pitt, could 
have dissipated the tendency to equaliza¬ 
tion ; and nothing, but his vigour beyond 
the law, could have strangled the giant, 
that was widely trampling over the happi¬ 
ness of England. He might, certainly, 

E 2 


40 


have, in a great measure, prevented the 
insinuation of the new ideas, by keeping 
aloof from the flaming volcano of heated 
France : but, having failed in this neces¬ 
sary duty, he certainly did all he could do, 
to cure the effects of his involuntary neg¬ 
ligence, by first smothering the fire, and 
then endeavouring to extinguish its em¬ 
bers.^ 

* However lamentable the consequences of the 
French revolution may have proved to England, 
whether immediately, mediately, or ultimately 
considered, she is certainly indebted to Mr. Pitt’s 
energy for her preservation to the present period. 
He fought the contest, on which depended her 

prosperity and happiness; and, if he contended 

♦ * 

uHSuecosfully in these points, he did not fail of 
sustaining her independence, through the shoals 
and quicksands that environed her around. 

It is not in man to say to fortune, <f I will have 
success, and it must be so.” To producea particu¬ 
lar end, particular measures must be resorted to ; 
and, when those measures involve the safety of a 
nation, wMch is finally effected, it is infinitely 
more w orthy of some praise, than of absolute con¬ 
demnation, that that safety was obtained with partial 


41 


• r * * r 

Many of those, who have since railed at 
Mr. Pitt’s decisive measures, w r ere among 
the very persons, that compelled him to 

r • , 

violate the liberties of his fellow-subjects. 
His sagacity, happily, defeated their frantic 
w ishes, and revenge has, no doubt, sur- 
vived their infinite disappointment: but, 

r • / 

surely, no credence should be given to en- 
furiated malice; to jacobinism, merely 
repressed by a sense of danger; or to am¬ 
bition, curbed only by the hopelessness of 
its irrational designs. All must lament, 
with the writer, the evils that have been 
accumulated on a mighty nation by a 


lapse of judgment; but will lamentation 
remedy the evils complained of? will 

discontent disperse the remnants of the 

r ' f f t boom n fci nofjfidorqqij logiovmif 


l a »/ i *4. it 


injuries,than that it shbuld i nt>t' have been acquired 
at all. The lesserdojury mitsf necessarily be prefer¬ 
red to the greater one : and, under all circumstances, 

England m^y congratulate r b.erf^ she aloue, 

u of all the nations,” has withstood the tempest, 

A< •ra .ijli.l aM ffiidnat eiano 1 .■ . a 

thathas laid the continent prostrate at a Corsican s 

fejtj t oIdjsdoiqnrf to a si ti t rnfori oh; homo 




e3 



42 


storm, or smooth its unexhausted fury into 
an immediate calm ? will dissensions and 
civil discord heal wounds, that time and 
patience only can strive to cure ? or, wdien 
an impoverished country bleeds, almost at 
every pore, from multifarious calamities, 
should Englishmen do nothing else but 
pierce other punctures for her speedier 
downfall ? 


Public men, and public measures, are 
particularly entitled to favourable opini¬ 
ons ; being open to the inspection of all, 
it is morally impossible, that all can be 
pleased. The voices of the many may 
applaud the motives of an act, yet the 
murmurs of a few cannot be silenced : 
universal approbation is a meed, which 
no man, or set of u men, however meritoi 
rious, must dare to hope for. , ; 

' :i ■-> i ihmt < i!’ ■ : %ijo loiia'jt'g : ot boi 


Had Mr. Fox been invested with power, 

at the awful crisis in which Mr. Pitt first 

' • V ^ ; . v . 

assumed the helm, it is not improbable, tka£ 


o 

v 


43 


he-might have adopted - a line of political 
measures, similar to his: in this ease, 
Mr. Pitt might have traversed the same 
course of thought, that Mr. Fox adhered 
to, and a reverse of situation would have 
still given birth to a contrariety of opi¬ 
nions. 

But all this is merely conjectural. It is 
now very evident, that England, by mea¬ 
sures, inimical certainly to her real in¬ 
terest, but, undoubtedly the result of the 
most disinterested feelings that ever sway¬ 
ed the mind of man, like the ship, that 
has withstood a violent hurricane, is 
still subject to the irregular swell of 
a sea, scarcely less dangerous than the 
mountainous waves she has already en¬ 
countered. 

The efforts to rescue the noble vessel 
must be rendered adequate to the peril 
of her situation; and, although her 


44 


cargo may be injured, her sheathing dis¬ 
placed, and her bottom strained, yet, it 
is to be hoped, that, under the blessings 
of divine Providence, she will eventually 
reach the port, where all her losses and 
injuries may be effectually repaired* 


nor; 


^ il Jr tuSoolnoo vfoioui el eidi Ifa jutl 
vd t i jft.lt jJuobivt) /'toy vfoxi 

r ‘ >i: ot 7. ) JiOhisi il <Z0 ?:j8 

cwa lev j j ui i eg .nV t i tao-ioi/naff• * x« 
. > lit 7ii c/U , io bniin oill h i 

< r jn/ 3 nnd Juoioiv b Lootafjt; ,y 
lo I !)-.-re 'ijJuijni 9«[} ot j^idna Il[j> 

v# 

AAftnj •-r?o*i / jgijj?b aasl vl30'm:>a 333 x* 

•' i i /: JJ3U(j <3:11 3ilt4 83Vfi\' ano/jifljnijoai 

-b Yrjimioo 


loaao^ oldon 9dl onoaoi ot etidffo odT 
lu >q 3ilt oi ojeupaus od Jsuut 

' - 1 * ilguoiljfo Jj/w r laoitBule vui ij 


45 


4 


CHAPTER II. 


Mediate consequences of the French revolu¬ 
tion to England . 

Having considered the immediate ef¬ 
fects, produced to England by a great na¬ 
tional convulsion, it becomes necessary, 
now, to advert to those mediate, (though 
not less aggravated,) consequences, which 
excited useless coalitions; increased the 

jJFxj , } ) '4 4 . > . IB 

national debt; occasioned a bank restriction 
and gave extension to country banks 
wasted the lives of our soldiers; engaged 
England in a civil war with a people,* 
allied to her by consanguinity, and a use 
of the same language; generally impo¬ 
verished the nation; and animated the 
continent to struggles, that terminated 

* Ireland. 


• 



46 


in its final subjugation; and these the 
writer intends to notice, in the same order 
as he has enumerated them. 

Long before Mr. Pitt’s exit from this 
scene of turmoil, it was very evident, that, 
active opposition to France was perfectly 
useless; and that self-preservation alone 
should have been the paramount conside¬ 
ration of every nation : the same causes 
that operated, at the commencement of the 
French revolution, to impress the necessity 
of an abstinence from war, were equally 
powerful in later periods; for it had been 
already seen, that violence served but to in¬ 
crease her power, to condense her efforts, 
and to connect the parties, that would, 
otherwise, have been opposing each other, 

instead of an enemy. 

li L'.s <Y n i ; . •} . 

• England, then, should have still pre¬ 
served merely the posture of self-defence* 
and complied with the apparent inten¬ 
tions of nature, which, by making her an 


47 


island, has most probably preserved her 
from foreign bondage. She had nothing 
to do with the Continent, as a scene of 
warfare, for her population was by no 
means equal to supply the large armies, 
necessarily required to act on so extended 
a scale; and the ocean, from its subjection 
to her fleets, was superlatively her own. 

Under these circumstances, so unde¬ 
niably proved by ultimate consequences, 
it was the height of insanity to lavish her 
gold and silver on continental powers, 
to induce them to fight for that indepen¬ 
dence a sense of their own dangers must 
have compelled them to defend; and to at¬ 
tack a nation, that wanted only to be 
roused, to overwhelm them. It is a maxim 
in law, not unworthy of constant appli¬ 
cation to warfare, that it is far pre¬ 
ferable to defend, than to become the ag¬ 
gressor. Independent of the justice of 
such a maxim, it may be asserted, that, by 
the former mode, weakness, in vulnerable 


48 

points, may be more easily masked by care 
and caution; but, by the latter, rashness 
is laid open to instant exposure, in case 
of defeat : thus, the enemy, not only 
has cause to smile at the effects of victory, 
but to deride a foe, who could, so wantonly, 
dare to commit his fortune and reputation, 
on an unnecessary throw. In such circum¬ 
stances were most of the continental pow¬ 
ers. They could gain nothing by provo¬ 
cation ; they might preserve every thing 
by forbearance : they wanted not, at least 
they professed, that they wanted not, to 
parcel out the territories of France ; and, 
therefore, they had nothing more to do, 
than to preserve their own. 

Besides, all these menaces and attacks 
■were without a justifiable object: if my 
neighbour has a barn at a considerable 
distance, which he may set on fire, without 

r « r 

endangering my property, what right have 
I to cavil at his rashness ? I suffer not by 
his hardihood, if he injure himself; and 


\ 


49 


while he refrains from assailing my land, 
I am not justified in making encroach¬ 
ments on his; much less, in dictating to him 
my commands that he must do so no more. 
This comparison may not strictly bear, in 
every respect, on foreign powers, for their 
propinquity to France rendered them pe¬ 
culiarly liable to the inroads of poisonous 
tenets; (and the introduction of these might 
have been, in a great measure, obviated by 
drawing cordons of troops on each frontier:) 
but it is analogical, in every point, to 
England, that could, from her command 
of the sea, at all times, prevent the intro¬ 
duction of the disseminators of mischief. 

1 . ' /* x 

At the French revolution, France w-as 
determined to gratify her impulse to va¬ 
riety, and to make experiments for her 
own improvement. She should have been 
suffered to make them, until her fondly- 
fancied variety had ceased to charm, and 
regeneration, leading the way to rational 
happiness, had opened the mental eyes^of 

r 


• s 


/ 


50 


her would-be reformers: but, unfortunately 
for -England and for Europe, this was not 
the case; her territories were violated; the 

V 

dagger of compulsion was held at her 
throat; she had no alternative but death 
or surrender; and, when she ought to have 
been soothed, or rather pitied, she was 
imperiously dictated to, and, in a manner, 
forced up to that eminence, which she at 
present holds in indisputable possession. 
Success engendered ambition, and ambi¬ 
tion, still anxious to increase its food, ex¬ 
panded its steps, till, like the circumvolu¬ 
tions occasioned in a large piece of water 
by the throwing of a stone, each circle but 
impelled another undulation, and the whole 
surface was agitated by the first movement. 

No one, that looks at the present power 
of France, can disallow the fidelity of this 
analogy, which is not framed from hypo¬ 
thetical circumstances, but actually pre¬ 
sents itself to the eye of man, and may be 
seen by all who choose to witness it: but 


51 


what instrument raised her to a height of 
authority, incompatible with the balance 
of power that Providence has so "wisely 
ordained for the comfort of his crea¬ 
tures? or, who fanned her prosperity, if 
an immense superficies of territory can be 
considered such,* by every breeze that 
could fill its sails ? 

* iC Extended empire, like expanded gold, ex¬ 
changes solid strength for glittering splendour.” 
(Dr. Johnson). This remark is extremely appli¬ 
cable to the colossal power of France, which is in¬ 
deed so unwieldy and'unnatural in its shape and ap¬ 
pearances, as to afford strong hopes that it cannot 
be lasting; and it may not be uninteresting, by way 
of consolation to those, who may be frightened at 
her magnitude and power, to consider in what 
the splendid conquests of Charlemagne, whom 
Buonaparte professes to imitate and boasts of emu¬ 
lating, terminated for his family and his country. 
That great prince erected an empire, which crum¬ 
bled to pieces like that of Alexander the great, 
when the terror of his name aiul trauscendant 
abilities no longer remained to hold it together ; and 
France, the centre of power then, as she is now. was 

F 2 


52 


England, the natural rival of France, 
was the unhappy instrument, and, in mis- 

so much exhausted and enfeebled, that, in a cen¬ 
tury after, the Danes sailed, two successive seasons, 
up the river Seine, and burned and pillaged Paris. 
What a dreadful reverse ! the great city of the great 
Charles became a prey to pirates, who landed from 
boats that were dragged up a shallow’ river for two 
hundred miles in an hostile country !!! what a con¬ 
temptible situation must France have been reduced 
to for this to happen ! If we are not permitted to 
prophesy, we may, at least, be allowed the pleasure 
of retrospection; and, if England can hold out a pro¬ 
tracted contest, as, with w isdom, she may expect to 
do, things will go back again to their antient order, 
like the reflux of the ocean. 

The dynasty of Charlemagne did not survive a 
century, and the grandeur of the empire did not 
hist so long. The usurped authorities of Buona¬ 
parte are likely to experience a speedier termina¬ 
tion, as the world is infinitely more enlightened now 
than it was in the age of Charlemagne, and univer¬ 
sal monarchy is a despotism, that the wounded pride 
an,d stifled anxiety for independence of the hum¬ 
bled nations onthe Continent cannot, in the course 
of events, much longer submit to. * J 


applying her resources, she has exalted a 
foe, who, when he has effected her des¬ 
truction, which he eagerly pants for* 
either by open means or secret machina¬ 
tions, will have attained the climax of his 
now unsatisfied ambition, for the lower 
world will then be at his absolute nod. 

The immense increase of the national 
debt, by England’s becoming the sole pay¬ 
master, not for her own benefit, but for 
that, (or rather the injury,) of allies, who 
fought and made peace, just as it suited 
their own convenience, was not so much 
thought of, in the heat of a contest with 
France, as it should have been. It is 
very certain, that a present generation may 
conduce to its comforts, luxuries, and 
conveniencies, without profuseness: but, 
surely, this conducement cannot be ex¬ 
tended, in justice, to future descendants, 
by sporting millions for an useless, and, 
indeed, unnecessary purpose. What a 
stigma is attached to the spendthrift, who 

f 3 


54 


squanders his patrimony in mere self- 
gratification, without consulting the ad¬ 
vantage of him, who looks to its inheritance: 
but, how much greater is the odium ol sad¬ 
dling a nation, in perpetuity, with burthens, 
that must be raised on those, who neither 
provoked nor merit the oppressive incon¬ 
venience? in this light, the writer consi¬ 
ders the national debt, which will punish 
innocence for the errors of political impro¬ 
priety ; and doom thousands, yet unborn, 
to negative existence, from a want of those 
comforts, that an enormous taxation must 
necessarily create.* 

* The national debt has, not inaptly in some re¬ 
spects, been compared to a game at cards between 
a married couple ; in which each plays into the 
others hand, and no eventual injury is sustained by 
either, as what the one loses, the other gains. It is, 
undoubtedly, true, that the English national debt is 
not due to foreign nations, but to wealthy indivi. 
duals in the state, who are interested in supporting 
the national credit, which their loans have hither¬ 
to maintained : but here the comparison fails; for 
the interest of these loans is obliged to be kept up 


55 


Real prosperity consists in circum¬ 
stances, that will bear the nicety of in- 

by a heavy requisition, that falls chiefly on those, 
who do not gain a single iota from bargains, 
advantageous perhaps to the contracting parties, 
but highly injurious to the bulk of the community: 
the fortunate few then, in this case, are counter¬ 
balanced by the distresses of the many ; and, un¬ 
der such circumstances, it must be very obvious, 
that no care or circumspection can be too great, in 
managing and appropriating the public finances, 
and, founding the national safety on its firmest 
basis, an economical expenditure. 

ci There is no doubt,” says the author of the 
Iniquity of Banking, that the national debt may 
be increased, by degrees, to almost any amount; 
but it is not the less an evil on that account, nor is 
the majority of the nation the less oppressed by the 
taxes or the circulation of bank notes: for it must 
be very evident, that alt those, whose incomes arc 
not increased, in exact proportion to the increase of 
the sum of all their incomes, must be losers by it. 
So that, although with every new tax, or every 
fresh issue of paper, the nominal value of the na¬ 
tional income would be increased, the real value of 
their incomes, who had no share in the produce of 


56 


spection and the most critical examination; 
in palpable matter, demonstrable to the 
very senses: but when, what may be 
thought unnecessary, is introduced; when 
tinsel is used to decorate the want of soli¬ 
dity, we may justifiably conclude, that 
something must have occurred to require 
this extraordinary alteration. 

Taxes may be defined to be the contri¬ 
butions of the governed to the necessities 
of government, a polity, that, in no state 
of civilization, can be dispensed with; 

the taxes or paper, would be diminished; and, al¬ 
though the?? ominal value of their incomes has re¬ 
mained nearly the same, the real value has been 
reduced at least one third, within the last five and 
twenty- years.” u The facility, too, with which 
one loan is raised after another, (by the Bank of 
England’s founding a fresh capital on every addition 
to the national revenue.) increases the circulation of 
paper with every new tax ; and thus, in proportion 
as our debts and taxes are increased, so will be the 
facility of borrowing money.” (Same author.) This 
certainly is not a very cheering prospect’ 


and when particular and urgent motives, 
such as the maintenance of independ¬ 
ence against foreign attack, and the 
preservation of peace at home, ask for 
more than common appeals to the public 
purse, they then, more than ever, be¬ 
come individual advances for a just pur¬ 
pose—the safety of a nation: but, when 
such appeals are made, and money is 
drained, neither for an ostensible nor an 
advantageous end, what would have been 
otherwise necessary becomes a dangerous 
practice, and may alienate the minds of 
the community from those opinions, that, 
under all events in a country, should be 
supported; and these are an adherence 
to that country, however fallen, and an 
obedience to regulaV establishments, in 
preference to all innovations, however 
flattering or prepossessing in their appear¬ 
ance. 


The mere circumstances however of in¬ 
creased territories and aggrandizement, on 


the part of France, and an extended debt, 
on tiie part of England, were not the sole 
consequences of England's hostility to her. 
Another circumstance, and that materially 
connected with the foregoing circumstan¬ 
ces, as well as with her future welfare, may 
be assigned for the faded prosperity of 
the British empire; and this was the 
unfortunate discontinuance of gold as a 
medium of circulation.* 

If, as the writer has heard, it be true, 
that the capital in specie of the Bank 
amounted to millions more than the notes 
issued, what reason could there be for the 
enormous circulation of bank paper? if 
our ancestors could be satisfied to bear the 

* To procure this restriction, engagements were 
no doubt entered into by the bank with govern¬ 
ment, to enable Mr. Pitt to continue the war he 
had so improvidently begun ; but whether these en¬ 
gagements were of service to the nation, may well 
be disputed. 


59 


weight of coin in their pockets, their de¬ 
scendants surely were not so extremely 
dwindled in corporeal strength, as not to 
be capable of sustaining a similar burthen; 
a burthen, the writer conceives, that would 
most readily be sustained by every well- 
wisher to his country. 

But, to be serious, it is very certain, that 
Mr. Pitt’s repeated attempts to form coa¬ 
litions on the Continent were all made 
with English money; consequently, if that 
money were exported, it became necessary 
to supply the deficiency with artificial mo¬ 
ney : and, as every coalition, that was 
formed, tended to diminish the national 
coin, without success, honor, or advan¬ 
tage to the country, it may be rationally 
presumed that this money was thrown 
away. Indeed, it was so profusely squan¬ 
dered in many respects, that even Fortu- 
natus’s purse would have been exhausted 
at last, if the system of coalescing the Con- 


GO 


/ 


tincwt had, or could have, continued, with 
energy equal to its commencement. 

This, however, was not the extent of the 
mischief; a restriction on the bank was a 
sufficient licence for speculation in simi¬ 
lar commodities, and country banks im¬ 
mediately sprung forward, on this, to 
them, most auspicious circumstance. 

If cash alone had continued to be the 
chief circulating medium, country banks 
could not have offered a single excuse for 
their unjust establishment; indeed, they 
would have had no motives to undertake 
the supererogatory task of public conve¬ 
nience, because, although there might have 
been sufficient coin or bullion to answer 
the demands and purposes of trade, there 
was not sufficient to enable them to follow 
the example of the Bank of England, by 
first creating a paper capital, and then dis¬ 
charging it in real money. Country banks 


61 


then may date their most profitable era 
from Mr. Pitt's ill-advised efforts to co¬ 
alesce the Continent, which absorbed the 
coin, required for more just and necessary 
purposes, and induced the necessity of 
resorting to some other medium.* 

The monied man and the great capi¬ 
talist, who discount their thousands and 
tens of thousands, and command the 
price of the funds, by their immense 
purchases or sales of stock, may smile at 
the foregoing remarks, and conceive, be¬ 
cause they are rich and are enabled to 
enrich themselves, by their multifarious 

speculations, that the country is equally 

*. i ' :■ ; M i {!. </(. . ■ '.'l,'. t ' ■ 

* Unfortunately, although that Continent is no 
longer divided into independent powers, and can be 
coalesced no more, except by I3uonaparte against 
England, country banks still pursue their gainful 
practices, having reared themselves, and continuing 
to rear themselves, like fungi, from the rankness 
of the soil, which tlveir rapid vegetation must soon, 
impoverish and reduce to sterility. 

e 


62 


prosperous as their finances. But the 
overgrown wealth of a few is no evi¬ 
dence of the prosperity of a whole na¬ 
tion ; # on the contrary, it proves, that 

* C6 We perceive,” says the author of the Iniquity 
of Banking, u that riches bring many conveni¬ 
ences to those who possess tbetn ; we, therefore, 
conclude, that, as a nation increases in wealth, it 
* must necessarily increase in happiness. But, truly, 
there cannot be a greater mistake; since it is as im¬ 
possible for one part of the society to grow rich, 
and the other not to grow poor, as for one arm of 
the balance to be raised, without the other being de¬ 
pressed.” The loans to government, co-operating 
with the immense increase of bank paper, have been 
productive of consequences, but little attended to in 
this country. For, by them, an unnatural system 
of credit and speculation has been introduced; the 
price of labour and of all the articles of life has 
been considerably enhanced ; the poor’s rates have 
been greatly augmented; an artificial capital has 
been created, a twentieth part of which, should a 
run take place, cannot be paid off in specie ; and 
to this, in addition to the evils already enumerated, 
it will be found, that vre are principally indebted 
for the frequency of our w ars. “ For bank-notes,” 


too much scope has been afforded to 
contractors, who, it may be truly said, 

says the author already quoted, u not only en¬ 
able ministers to contract debts and raise supplies, 
with infinitely greater facility than they could 
otherwise do ; but render war absolutely necessary 
for promoting the interest of a very powerful body 
of men,—I mean .the money-lenders , and particu¬ 
larly the bankers . War is the only effectual mean 
for increasing the demand and raising the interest 
on money. War, therefore, becomes the interest 
of all money-lenders.’ , 

<< But the Bank of England has an interest in 
war, distinct from that of other banks; for, as all 
money raised by taxes is lodged there, the revenue 
becomes a fund for circulating the notes of the bank; 
and, as the profits of the proprietors depend upon 
the quantity of their paper in circulation, and, as that 
must depend upon the largeness of their funds, 
war, which, by increasing the national debt and 
taxes, increases their funds, must greatly contri¬ 
bute to their advantage.” Under these circum¬ 
stances the bank might transact the portion of 
public business, at present conducted by them, for 
nothing, on account of the use of such immense 
of public money as pass through their bauds, 


sums 


64 


of late years, have absolutely aggran¬ 
dized themselves by the blood, treasure? 
and errors of their country. An immense 
increase of bank paper has tried to com¬ 
pensate for the disappearance of our 
sterling coin; but, in seeking a remedy, 
it has merely put off, but not prevented, 
the eventual injury. It is an indispu¬ 
table fact, that paper alone is our great 
circulating medium, and this fact, ac¬ 
companied by other circumstances,* 
speaks more than volumes could speak, 

* 5 ' ' A- * C- '* ■ • . v. i \ 4 ' ) ) fj t ‘ • / ’ | *T F 

from time to time, by which they are enabled to 
discount to the amount of, from a million and a 
half to two millions a week, and, at all events, they 
should pay interest on all balances. 

* These are the depreciation of bank paper, 
and the determination of the continent to take hard 
cash only for the commodities it barters. Which 
circumstances prove two things; first, that the cre¬ 
dit of England does not stand on its usual basis in 
the eyes of the world : and, secondly, that Buona¬ 
parte knows well he cannot injure England more 
effectually, than by gradually absorbing her sterling 
coin and reducing her solely to paper resources* 


65 


for the ill effects of the original war¬ 
fare with France, and the inexpediency 
of every coalition against her. ^ 

: * ( j" t- v> f • : ( • ; j i 

The waste of blood, which no human 
efforts can restore to its wonted chan¬ 
nels, becomes a crime of a heinous na¬ 
ture, when it is dissipated in useless at¬ 
tempts, and without a motive, which may 
plead some excuse for the expenditure 
of life : for, though a certain number only 
of individuals fall by the sw T ord, the 
whole community suffers in the loss of 
its members; the diminution of its 
w r ealth; and, w ithout success, in the ruin 
of its reputation. Alas! how many 
widows may mourn the mania, w r hich 
sent their husbands to a charnel-house! 
How many orphans may deplore the 
loss of those, who, by reserving their 
energies for the defence of Fngland, 
might have still nourished and supported 
their ripening years! How many discon- 

g 3 



66 


solate sorrowers may sigh when they 
think, that thousands have perished, 
alas ! perished, in vain, in foreign lands, 
without an isolated comfort to palliate 
the agony of dying moments ! did these 
perish for their country ? ah, no ! their 
country was safe, and ever will be safe, 
while she protects her own shores, and 
forms an union, in her own bosom, 

against every intestine defect that may 

* 

weaken her strength then why did they 
sink into untimely graves ? for nothing, 
a mere, an absolute nothing r for En£- 
land has gained nothing by their manly 
prowess, which, if never called into ac¬ 
tion abroad, might have been now service¬ 
able in preserving something.* 


r * m ’ r y 

/* ■ 4 V if Cl s ■: l i^ J l vj v f J j • l II t' i/ V i 

* The writer cannot resist the opportunity o! 
inserting some lines he has lately met with, which 
archly convey, in strains of poetic simplicity, a mosi 
affecting moral, and arc extremely appropriate or 
this subject, with the exception of <c victory 


67 


r i i.i ftro/li ?;? f T 


TIIE 

r ; v .({ m a'tyi T * 

BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 

i :• •' a ‘ »iifj iGffg.rlg' ohj ori i •* 

J 

it was a summer’s evening, 

Old Kaspar’s work was done; 

Ami he, before his cottage door. 

Was sitting in the sun ; 

And by him sported on the green. 
His little grand.child Wilhelmine, 


;Oo/5 


(< . 


• *tO "\ A\vl 


2 . 

iMii 


o' 




A. 


She saw her brother Pcterkin 
Roll something large and round. 

That he, beside the rivulet, J 

In playing there, had found. 

1I« came to ask what he had found, 

That was so large, and smooth, and round. 


3; 


Old Kaspar took it from the boy, 

(Who stood expectant by,) 

And then the old man shook his head, 
And, with a natural sigh, 
sc Tis some poor fellow’s scull,” said he, 
f c Who fell in the great victory \ ” 


GS 


4. 

44 I find them in the garden, for 
44 There’s many here about; 

44 And often, when I go to plough, 

64 The plough-share turns them out; 

44 For many thousand men,” said he, 

* i 

44 Were slain in the great victory.” 

,t fiioov ) t'-y .. (>' r i I 

' y 5. 

44 Now tell us, tc/ia/ about. 19 

Young Peterkin he cries : 

And little Wilhelmine look’d up 
With wonder-waiting eyes; 

44 Now tell us all about the war, 

44 And what they kill'd each other for. 19 

» . *! ’ 

6 . 

44 It was the English,” Kaspar cri’d. 

44 That put the French to rout; 

44 But what they kill'd each other for , 

44 I could not well make out: 

44 But every body said,” quoth he, 

44 That ’twas a famous victory.” 

t v 

• 4 My father liv’d at Blenheim then, 

44 Yon little stream hard by ; 

44 They burnt his dwelling to the ground, 

44 And he was forc’d to fly. 

44 So with his wife and child he fled, 

44 And had not where to rest his head.’ , 


69 


e( With fire and sword the country round 
u Was wasted far and wide; 
tc And many a childing mother then, 

“ And new.born infant di’d. 
u But things like these, you know ? must be, 
u After a famous victory.” 

9. 

(( They say it was a shocking sight, 
u After the field was won ; 

<i For many a thousand bodies here, 
u Lay rotting in the sun. 

• ■ 

v But things tike these, you know, must be, 
4 * After a famous victory.” 

10 . 

iC Great praise the duke of Marlbro’ won, 
u And our good prince Eugene.” 
u fVhif) 9 1was a very wicked thing!'* 

Said little Wilhelmine. 
iC Nay—nay—my little girl,” quoth he, 
a It was a famous victory.” 

. q li.-ti i:< ; j bra *;iw ;i 

11 . 

u And every body prais’d the duke, 

6i Who such a fight did win.” 

But what good come of it at last?’* 

Quoth little Peterkin. 

66 JV/ty, that I cannot tell said he, 
u But ’twas a famous victory.” 


70 


Each coalition they served in was vain 
and nugatory. The good genius of France, 
or rather the evil genius of England, dis¬ 
sipated every attempt, like the togs of the 
morning. France even anticipated the 
issue of each coalition, but no nation 
would listen to the prophetic tale : rush¬ 
ing blindly to their fate, or rather to the 
effects of their own misconduct, it cannot 
be wondered, that prudence and good 
fortune, the genesal result of sagacity, 
should triumph over the perverseness of 
error, untaught by the oracle of continu¬ 
ally inculcated experience. 

That Ireland, an appendage of Eng¬ 
land, which may be almost termed her 
better half,* should have escaped the 
effluvia and desolation that pervaded 
Europe, was not to be expected. More 
open to France than England, she was, of 

*• Ireland supplies, at least, one half of our 
soldiers and sailors, independent of a great num¬ 
ber of labourers and artizans in various branches. 


71 


course, more liable both to her moral and 
military attacks: and the rebellion, that 
ravaged her entrails, was, no doubt, the 
consequence of both. But Ireland, per¬ 
haps, had more cause to complain, than 
she had a right to recur to civil disorder, 
which may amplify, but seldom cures, 
the evils found fault with. England par¬ 
ticipated in all the advantages she could 
offer ; but Ireland was no sharer in those 
of England : and, had this long-neglected 
country been valued and treated, as she 
justly merited, it is not very probable, 
that incivilization or commotion would 
have unfurled their banners. But harsh 
treatment, conjoined with a new phi¬ 
losophy, were too powerful for a high- 
spirited and sanguine people ; and, 
however we may lament the effects of 
their errors, (which were more properly 
entitled to the pity due to wrong heads, 
than to the detestation due to had hearts,) 
we cannot but be surprised at the sin¬ 
gular apathy to her interest and happi- 


ness, at all times, evinced by England ; 
who appears to have been afraid to place 
ber on a level with herself, either from a 
principle of unbecoming superiority, or 
from ah unjust and illiberal apprehension, 
that her exaltation might soon enable her 
to attain pre-eminence in arts and com¬ 
merce. The fact, nevertheless, is certain, 
that Ireland was alienated from her sister 
island, in the indignant moments ot tem¬ 
porary ebullition ; and it is not the most 
equivocal sign of Mr. Pitt’s intrepidity, 
that he overcame her resistance, and 
finally annexed her late to England s 
destiny.* 

* This union, however, was not attended by those 
advantages to Ireland, which she had aright to ex¬ 
pect. Her trade was still cramped ; her national 
debt was increased without correspondent means to 
discharge its interest ^ and an exchange, at a dis¬ 
count, was still permitted to subsist between her 
and England. In short, it was a mere act of con¬ 
junction without an equalization of circumstances, 
and exactly similar to a bargain between two indi¬ 
viduals, where the benefit rests solely on one side. 


✓ 


TS 

* 

The impoverishment and deterioration 
of England by consequences, so well cal¬ 
culated to sap her prosperity, were 
things of course : where we witness no 
caution, we can expect no prudence; 
and where a career, wrong from its very 
commencement, was determined to be 
prosecuted, notwithstanding its evident 
effects and tendency, it would be ridicu¬ 
lous to suppose, that her financial re¬ 
sources or general prosperity could be so 
flourishing, as economy would have ren¬ 
dered them. This indeed would be like 
the madness of a florist, who might ex¬ 
pect flowers to spring from a quaking 
bog. 

Millions had been sacrificed; the blood 
of a gallant soldiery had been shed in 
vain; delusive principles had been dis¬ 
seminated, by the fomentation of civil dis¬ 
cord, as well as by specious allurements^ 
which every rational friend to what is 
called society should have execrated and 

It 





74 

opposed ; severe measures had been re¬ 
sorted to, to repress a proclivity to se¬ 
ductive doctrines; in short, wisdom ha¬ 
ving been led astray, in the first instance, 
by unnecessarily interfering and attempt¬ 
ing to dictate, where she should have 
soothed,* was completely bewildered in 

* Even the murder of the unfortunate monarch 
Louis XVI. and the furious declamations of his 
frantic assassins, against all nations possessing a re¬ 
gular, and particularly a regal system, however 
lamentable and irritating in their nature, were no ar¬ 
guments for the justice of attack, or the prudence of 
the measures taken, to punish the former, or to op¬ 
pose the latter : it is not unlikely, that the martyr¬ 
dom of the b rcnch king was hastened, if not occasi¬ 
oned, by foreign aggressions; and, with respect to the 
latter, they might have proceeded from the same 
cause. When England had patiently beheld the 
approach of the threatening conflagration, from 
1783 to 1789, and combated with its worst moral 
effects, after it had occurred, from the latter year 
to 1793, was it then the time, supposing interfe¬ 
rence to have been justly called for, at any period, 
to attempt the reversal of events, which a tacit ac¬ 
quiescence had almost sanctioned ? British energy 


her choice ot action ; and the result was 
the general diffusion of injury, through 
every part of the political and civil bodies. 
And yet, amidst all the calamities accu¬ 
mulated by his contumacy in error; with 

was, no doubt, called on to check a horde of enthu¬ 
siastic miscreants, so far as they might have dared 
to violate her peaceful shores : but, on their own 
soil, she should not have molested them, or casti¬ 
gated ideots into the fury of demoniacs, which 
nothing human could, at last, venture to oppose, 
but with fearful odds. 

Far be it from the writer to extenuate the crimes 
of the French revolutionists; for there is no lan¬ 
guage, in his opinion, sufficiently strong, to mark 
the deserved reprobation of their horrific malig¬ 
nancy. Far be it, for ever, from his heart, to 
eulogize France by the dispraise of his country : he 
loves ; he honours ; he reveres ; he would readily die 
for his country, on her own territory, or in the 
floating bulwarks, that protect her coast. But he 
protests, and ever must protest, against the futility 
of continental measures, which have, hitherto, 
merely bleached the continent with the bones ot 
her soldiers; wasted her resources; and degraded, 
the nation in the eyes of Kurope! 


the same contempt of past experience; 
the same wasteful disregard of the means 
of his country; with the same forlorn hope 
of success, that had characterized every 
enterprize against France, when Mr. Pitt 
resumed the helm in 1804, the propriety 
of intermeddling with her concerns, and 
the mode of directing that interference; 
were still insisted on and pursued by him, 
till death, hastened by the fatal battle of 
Austerlitz, severed the connection be¬ 
tween him and mortal existence ! 

The exhibition of his vigour, it may 
be certainly said, contributed to the inde¬ 
pendence of England; but did it reduce 
the power of her enemy ? the former, it 
may be replied, France could not affect; 
and the latter, by an abstinence from at¬ 
tack, might not have exceeded its proper 
limits : if England, then, did not reduce 
the power of France, for what did she 
contend ? were mere honour, laurels, 
and fame, a sufficient remuneration for the 


77 


sacrifice of thousands of lives; for the pro¬ 
fuse expenditure of hundreds of millions; 
for the almost insupportable taxation of an 
over-burthened country? could these be rec¬ 
koned as a valuable consideration for the de¬ 
falcation of foreign hope, and the reduction 
of domestic resource? could these protect 
and liberate the groaning continent ? 
could these raise a mound of sufficient 
strength, to withstand the deep and power¬ 
ful current of Corsican ascendancy ? alas, 
they only succeeded in bringing danger 
the closer to our own shores! in accelera¬ 
ting the approach of formidable perils! 
in decreasing the means of England, at the 
same time that they augmented the 
powers of her enemy ! the game, then, that 
had been played was played in vain, and 
nothing was the result of a war, that 'was 
engaged in for nothing: and yet, wretched 
fatality, assistance was still proffered, 
where it could render no service; and the 
defence of a cause continued to be at¬ 
tempted, which was, in itself, defenceless 1 

11 3 


78 


During the sixteen years that composed 
Mr. Pitt’s first administration, the power of 
France grew, without our growth, and 
strengthened herself, in proportion to oui 
weakness; and, during this lamentable 
period, twice as much was expended 
in impolitic coalitions and expeditions, 
as would have sufficed to protect the coun¬ 
try for double the period .* 

* Figures are stubborn things ; they will not 
give way to eloquence, nor can the conclusions, 
drawn from them, be evaded by the most cunning 
sophistry. During 16 years the national debt had 
increased from 228 millions to 477 millions. Such 
an increase was, no doubt, thought necessary, not 
only by Mr. Pitt, but by many, who, with this ex¬ 
ception, were justly prejudiced in favour of every 
thing lie proposed. This sort of prejudice had a 
strong effect upon the judgments, even of the 
most discerning;and contributed much towards pro¬ 
curing him a parliamentary approbation of mea¬ 
sures, that have since proved so pernicious in their 
consequences : but, as these consequences are now 
apparent to the whole world, though they were 
not foreseen by those, that were prepossessed in 
his favour, they must be, neccessarily, felt, even by 
them, and will descend, in certain degrees, to the la- 


I 


79 

It cannot, then, be too much to repeat, 
that nothing less was to be expected thgyi 

test of their posterity : prejudice now can avail no¬ 
thing, and regret must reluctantly succeed to former 
approbation. But, still, it must be allowed, that mi¬ 
nisters, above all men, are not infallible : for they are 
not only liable to the same passions and affections 
as other men ; but they are peculiarly exposed to 
uncommon temptations, and trying difficulties; to 
unjust censures, and clamorous outcries, which, very 
frequently, compel them todepartfrom the required 
line of policy, u ad captandum vulgus,” or drive 
them into measures of a contrary tendency, with a 
violence, but ill calculated to benefit their country. 
In fact, they^re placed between Scylla and Cha- 
rybdis, and have no slight difficulty in steering 
clear of opposing difficulties, through the intricate 
channel that intervenes. In affairs of a political 
nature, the best, the most honest, may err in their 
judgments ; at the same time, that their worst mea¬ 
sures may be justified by partizans, and their best 
may be condemned by illiberal enemies, who may, 
severally, heap indiscriminate praise or relentless cri¬ 
ticism, without assaying either in the refiner of truth. 

Ministers then may be fallible, and yet conscien¬ 
tiously fight in the motives of their conduct. I hey 


80 


that the nation would be impoverished, by 
the unmerciful prostitution of her true and 

may be subject to the errors of human nature, and 
yet be animated by the most settled designs to be¬ 
nefit their country. Mr. Pitt was one of these, 
and long after the period, when the hand, that 
writes these remarks, shall have mouldered into 
dust, the name of Pitt will shine, and continue 
to shine, in the annals of his country, as one 
of the truest patriots ; the most upright statesmen ; 
and the most disinterested men she ever pro. 
duced. 

Were there no darkness, the value of light would 
not be noticed ; even so it is with human life ; the 
chequer of error, in many instances, although not 
to such a degree, as in this instance, is an indis¬ 
pensable companion to superior virtues, which, if 
not so alloyed, might appear too highly exalted 
above the level of finite perfection. 

Nemo vitiis sine nascitur; optimus illc, qui 
minimis urgetur/’ 

Peace, then, be to the manes of an illustrious 
mortal, who, if he erred, and posterity, after all, 
will be the best judge of his merits or demerit,s 7 
«rred only in the cause of his country ! 


81 


permanent interests, to the madness of 
continental measures ; which not only frit¬ 
tered away the blood and treasure of the 
country, but were so baneful, both in 
their progress and consequences, as to poi¬ 
son every success, that was gained by the 
valour of her arms, and to render it ne¬ 
cessary, in order to secure the peace of 
Amiens, in 1802, that most of the acquisi¬ 
tions obtained by this success should be 
given up. # 

* This was an unfortunate peace, in which the 
seeds of future war and mischief were merely 
covered over by a loose mould, that, instead of re¬ 
pressing their vegetative powers, only afforded the 
greater facilities to their rapid expansion : it was 
also unfortunate, in this respect; because it ani¬ 
mated Buonaparte in his rapacious designs, and 
gave stability to the seat he had usurped, by sanc¬ 
tioning the crimes and atrocities, through which he 
had waded. From this moment, this wonderful 
man began to feci himself a monarch ; from this 
moment, the imperial diadem and the iron crown 
fluttered before his daring imagination ; from this 
moment he turned his eyes to new conquests, secure 


England, therefore, by irritating 
France, first to resent a haughty in¬ 
terference with her domestic affairs, and 
then to rush to conquest and exalta¬ 
tion, not only deeply, perhaps irretrievably, 
injured the foundations of her own pros¬ 
perity and happiness; but, most un¬ 
doubtedly, propelled the various other 
nations of Europe to their present 
wretched and disconsolate situation. 

The same causes, that should have 
operated to prevent England from in¬ 
termeddling with Fiance, should have 
been equally powerful in restraining her 
from unjustifiable efforts to back other 
powers against a nation ; w hich had, 
hitherto, baffled every attempt, how¬ 
ever mighty, and acquired fresh accu- 

in those that he had already won ; and from this mo¬ 
ment, England, by acknowledging his authority, 
took one step more in the decline, which commen¬ 
ced on her subscribing to American independence, 
and afforded a memorable proof of her increasing 
weakness. 


S3 


initiations of territory at every stroke. 
These powers must, or ought to, have been 
sensible of the stake at issue ; which could 
be preserved by a manly preparation 
to resist a blow, but not by inflicting 
one on a hardy antagonist, who wanted 
only a provocation to crush the assail¬ 
ant. These powers were deeply interested 
in their own independence, infinitely more 
than England had any reason to be: if that 
independence were an object of so much 
disregard, even by themselves, that Eng¬ 
lish money only could call forth exertion ; 
it was an independence, that was not 
worth a struggle. Every powerful state 
has, or ought to have, within itself, means 
of defence, in the fidelity of its subjects, 
and the resources of its own finances; by 
employing these, in a proper manner, the 
necessity of applications to England, or 
her proffer of subsidies, would have been 
superfluous: and, it may here be asked, 
would these powers have increased their 
national debt ? would they have risked the 


84 


lives of their soldiers ? would they have 
encountered the dangers of domestic dis¬ 
content, and saddled their population with 
taxes, for the prosperity, happiness, or 
salvation of England ? Certainly not; 
neither just to themselves, nor generous to 
England, it is justly to be feared, that 
many of them would have viewed her 
prostration with exulting smiles. 

Was it, then, for such powers, that 
millions of coin were sent to circulate ;in 
foreign countries ? that thousands of 
brave and useful subjects were doomed to 
perish ? * that England was, at last, left to 
contend single-handed with France ? 
fyas not this coin sealed the fate of the 
continent? are not these subjects now 
wanted to defend our shores ? and where 
now can England turn her eyes for foreign 
succours, insulated as she is, by her own 
follies, in a struggle, which must terminate 
either in subjugation or victory ? 

* “ Non tali auxilio ? nec defensoribus istis 5 
Tempus egct.’* 

✓ 


85 


Is it likely, if forbearance had been ex¬ 
hibited towards France, by England and 
the continental powers, torn asunder, as 
she was, for a long time after the revolu¬ 
tion, by intestine discords, that she would 
have dared to encounter other dangers 
than those, under which she already la* - 
boured, in convulsive throes ? the sta- * 
bility of her power was yet in infancy, 
and required more the healing remedies oi 
quiescence and tranquillity, to foster its 
growth, than a war with her neighbours 
on every side. 

Indeed, without making any particular 
reference to later periods, this as v y 
evident in the conduct ot the French con- 
vention, on the dismissal ot M. Chauvelin 
from this country; for they expressly aver¬ 
red, they should unwillingly resort to hos¬ 
tilities with England, and deprecated, hi 
limine, the eventual horrors, which a con¬ 
test between two brave and powerful na¬ 
tions would necessarily give birth to : even 

i ■ ' 


86 


these demagogues, who rioted in blood 
and slaughter, who had but just doomed 
their unfortunate sovereign to a scaffold, 
and decreed atheism and immorality, were 
yet cool enough to anticipate the conse¬ 
quences of a war, which they dreaded 
certainly, but did not fear; consequences, 
that Mr. Pitt and his colleagues, who, it 
may be supposed, ought to have been 
cooler still, unhappily for England ani 
for Europe, could not foresee! How sin¬ 
gular that true reason should have ranged 
herself on that side, where, from the vio¬ 
lence of mental ebullitions, her presence 
was so little to be expected ; and, at once, 
have deserted those, whose intellects had 
no false lights to misdirect them ! 

There was a cowardice too in attacking 
France, under the circumstances in which 
she stood, at and long subsequent to the 
revolution, not dissimilar to that of an 
antagonist, who inflicts blows on his op¬ 
ponent, as he lies helpless on the ground* 


87 


Her natural bravery and inventive power* 
should have entitled her, at least, to some 
respect, even in her degradation : parti¬ 
cularly, as the crimes of a Marat, Danton, 
and Robespierre, could not be considered 
as the crimes of a whole nation; and, even 
amid all her excesses, there were traits 
of character, that illumined her gloomy 
sphere with rays of sunshine, and exhibited 
a grandeur of sentiment, that was not 
surpassed by Greece or Rome, even in the 
times of their greatest excellence. 

And here, perhaps, it may not be irreve- 

lant to remark, that talents and capacity 
are, by no means, confined to the higher 
classes of men. If the wheel ot i or tune, 
in its rotations, may throw up mud, that mud 
soon clears itself of the exuviae of impu¬ 
rity, and blazes and astonishes a world 
with native ability, that has, at length, 
found the opportunity of shewing itself. 
The truth of this observation was singu¬ 
larly realised, during the French revolu- 


88 


tion: for almost every character, that 
figured in its scenes, sprung from the chaos 
of obscurity; and each, with but few excep¬ 
tions, when called on to exert either politi¬ 
cal or martial sagacity,* without previous 
experience of diplomacy or the arts of war, 
acquitted himself in a manner, that, if duly 
considered, must create astonishment. 
Indeed so generally conspicuous was 
native talent, and so much did it seem to 
supersede the necessity of education, that 
the very example of its prevalence was 
sufficient to arouse the dormant energies 
of the bold, ambitious, and discontented of 
every nation, and to awaken that emula¬ 
tion for power and exaltation, which is so 
inherent in every breast. The natural 
thought, that one adventurer has risen to 
a superior eminence, excites a strong hope, 
in another, of similar success, on the 

^ 4 k | * 

* Carnot was a strong example of the truth of 
this assertion; who, although he was no soldier, 
planned most of the campaigns, that proved so sue* 
eessful to his couutry, 


/ 


trial of an experiment; and the conscious¬ 
ness of merit, possessed, either more or less, 
by every human being, even now, per¬ 
haps, keeps alive an ambition, that, notwith¬ 
standing the horrors, which must be waded 
through to effect its object, is not yet ex¬ 
tinct : it still burns, the writer fears, in 
many a bosom, and waits only the oppor¬ 
tunity of favourable explosion. 

And Buonaparte’s success, as much as 
any thing else, has increased the fury of 
this desire, and formed a bad precedent 
to the restless and aspiring ; because, in no 
other, the superiority of talents and power 
of genius, rapidly rising from a cloud of 
obstacles, were ever exemplified with 
more surprising consequences: uniting 
the several qualities of a great general, 
consummate statesman, and knowledge 
of the leading avenues to the human heart, 
with a fortune that has never been surpas¬ 
sed ; each step, he has taken, has been 
but the ladder to another eminence, and, 

i 3 


V 


90 

as he has constantly aspired, without cal¬ 
culating the probability of a fall, this 
very daring has obtained the success he 
aimed at, and stamped his destiny with 
a dominion, that no earthly power can cir¬ 
cumscribe. 

This long digression has been chiefly 
made, in order to prove another mediate 
consequence* of the French revolution, 
arising from the corroboration of the dan¬ 
gerous idea, that u every man may aspire 
to exaltation, if he will have but tone and 
vigour sufficient to carry his desires into 
execution.” Having been realised in 
Buonaparte, it has hatched discontents and 
treasonable wishes in the minds of many, 
who, from having nothing to lose, care not 

* The mutiny in the fleets was another conse¬ 
quence ; but, an ample and glorious atonement 
having been made by deluded sailors, for theft un¬ 
justifiable rashness, a veil has been purposely 
drawn over a picture, whose gloomy shades have 
been long overpowered by an immortal brilliancy. 


91 


i / 

what scenes of anarchy may be occasioned 
by the gratification of their anxiety for 
rhapsodical reforms, so as, in the general 
confusion, they may mount over the backs 
of the prostrate, to supreme authority. 

Reason might easily suppress such a 
fallacious idea: but reason is seldom the 
inmate of bosoms, that are determined to 
be dissatisfied : and the poison has insi¬ 
nuated itself too deeply to be eradicated? 
except by medicines, that must kill rather 
than cure. This is a bad expedient, but 
the happiness of the whole must not be 
neglected, from a fear of offence to soaring 
minds, that would shrink from no meat 
sures, calculated to produce the meditated 
result, even if they involved the ruin of 
their country. 

■js. < l ■ * \ i i / . ■,»»i i r \* ^ . J* I 

To such an idea may be ascribed the con¬ 
tinual cries of English reformers; who 
would, by violent revolutionary changes, 

overturn the whole building, merely to 

\ / 


92 


erect a superstriv v e, in which they may 
be doomed a. .did apartment. 

Self-interest alone, and not patriotism, 
is the actuating motive : were these re¬ 
formers actually wise, beneficent, and 
considerate, they would prefer a thou¬ 
sand inconveniences, to one advantage, if 
any might be gained, from their aclven. 
turous trials. Besides, it will be generally 
found, on a little enquiry, that men, 
who constantly rail at the ruling go¬ 
vernment, and espouse a party that is 
inimical to it; who pretend to prescribe 
a code of duties to their native country; 
and who vaunt much of political virtue? 
are, privately, animated, neither by patrio¬ 
tism, by moral fitness, or by the slightest 
principle. They present merely the ap¬ 
pearance of external glare; but, when 
touched by the curious hand, like a de¬ 
cayed skeleton, moulder into dust. 


Their basis is jacobinical ambition, or 


rather rapine, excited by such views, as 
can, in no sense, coincide with the nature 
and end of government, the reason of things, 
or the public good; and, therefore, no 
credit should be attached to their hypo¬ 
critical professions. But, what is still 
more unaccountable, these reformers seem 
to forget, that their own safety is involved 
in that of the community ; and that the 
first promoters of the French revolution 
hare nearly all perished in the storm, 
which their crimes and follies provoked. 

A consistency of habits and actions 

stamps a man s character in private life ; 
and political consistency should be formed 
on a similar foundation. But, unfortunate¬ 
ly, those who rail at this or that ministei, 
forget, in private, what they publicly pro¬ 
fess, and mask their vices behind the but¬ 
tress of political parade. 

It is, no doubt, very easy to rail, in¬ 
discriminately, at every thing, whether 


94 


good or bad ; but these indiscriminating 
calumniators, will seldom bear the test of 
examination : for we shall find private 
dishonour, where there is an uproarious 
outcry for the honour of the country; and 
turpitude ol morals, where there is an 
avowed regard lor decency and virtue : 
like tume and smoke, they constantly 
aspire to mix with a purer atmosphere; 
while the materials, from which they 
originate, are fit only to become the re¬ 
fuse of the loathsome dunghill. 

Let it never be forgotten , that Cromwell 
began by complaints of the people’s griev¬ 
ances, and professions to redress them ;* 

* The writer took the liberty, a short time since, 
to address a few remarks and proposals, for ame¬ 
liorating the situation of the poorer classes, (See 
Rambles in London, published by Sherwood and 
Co.) to most of the oppositionists and sticklers for 
reform, which, he is sorry to say, for the credit of 
their public declarations, did not elicit the slightest 
private attention. So much for patriotism !!! 


95 


but how did he end ? availing himself of 
anarchy, he climbed over the shoulders of 
the deluded multitude to the chair of roy¬ 
alty, and dealt destruction, slavery, and 
death, on every side !!! 

9 

May this fact prove a land-mark to suc¬ 
ceeding generations ! it conveys a moral, 
that is entitled to the most serious consi¬ 
deration, in these innovating times ! 


CHAPTER III. 



Ultimate consequences of the French retolu• 

, tion to England . 

A REVIEW of these must be pre¬ 
faced by a recapitulation of some of the 
foregoing observations; in order to con¬ 
dense them with those that are to fol¬ 
low, and to form, of the whole, a coup 
ceil of the distressful effects, immediate, 
" mediate, and ultimate, occasioned to Eng¬ 
land, by events, of which she might be, 
justly, termed the fruitful parent. 

It has been seen, that the American 
war, by the injurious example it afforded, 
of subjects contending successfully against 
the mother country, overcame many ob¬ 
stacles, that might, otherwise, have pre¬ 
sented themselves to the French revolu- 



97 


tionists: before this event the theories of po¬ 
litical amelioration were only thought of, 
or, if considered feasible in secret, they had 
not been very openly avowed, because there 
was no direct precedent to sanction their 
practice; but, on the acknowledgment ot 
the independence of thirteen colonies by a 
powerful kingdom, once their mistress, 
doubt instantly gave way to the dangerous 
conviction, that France had infinitely more 
cause than America to demand emancipa¬ 
tion, and to contend for the possession of 
the long wished-for prize. 

The golden apple that glittered in her 
view, like that thrown in the course ol Ata- 
lante, was too seducing to be viewed with 
indifference: she eagerly caught at it, with¬ 
out caring for the consequences of the 
grasp, and fed on the bait, until every 
sense was absorbed in enchantment; hei 
illuminati, greedily imbibing ideas so con¬ 
genial to their ratified contemplations, and 

K 


9$ 


quaffing the nectar of imagined liberty, 
with increased thirst for deeper draughts. 

The French revolution speedily suc¬ 
ceeded; but, as it extended its influence 
on every side, the fairy scenes, originally 
anticipated by those, who sighed for change, 
and panted to flutter on the wings of ex¬ 
perimental vicissitude, were soon fatally 
obscured by an overwhelming darkness, 
from whence issued the ravings of fanati¬ 
cism, and the terrific threats of the worst 
of tyrants, an armed, successful, and mad¬ 
dened populace. 

Thus fanned into stupendous amplitude, 

i * 

the tree of liberty soon became too large 
for the happiness of those who had con¬ 
spired to raise it, and, nurtured by blood, 
it speedily grew into a mighty colossus, 
and “ treasons, stratagems, and spoils,” 
seated themselves among its branches. 
Like the poison tree of the isle of Java, iu 


surrounding atmosphere was replete with 
death, and its distillations were no less de¬ 
leterious, for they instantly blinded the 
eyes, and benumbed the faculties, oi all 
but the enterprising and ambitious, who 
had no other objects in view except private 
aggrandizement and place and power. 

* f . f || a * 

: _ 

Chaos again elevated his gigantic and 
disjointed form,* and smiled on the ruins, 
which smoked around. He anticipated the 
return of his usual dominion, and French¬ 
men, readily, seconded the impulse oi his 
wishes, by daring even Heaven itself, and 
rushing “ per fas et nefas” to one sole end, 
the destruction of every thing legitimate 
and entitled to veneration, in order to sub- 

* The personification of Chaos is, undoubtedly, 
too poetical for a work in prose, but the writer 
could not convey his meaning, in any manner that 
was equally satisfactory to his feelings; in fact, the 
subject that employs his pen, is well calculated to 
create a warmth of ideas, and to awaken energy, 
even in the most obdurate bosom, 

K % 


100 


Stitute new-fangled systems, and aim at 
regeneration of the universe. 

Soon, in the fatal vortex, every hope of 
amelioration to France was completely 
buried, but it was only to whirl up a fal¬ 
lacious philosophy and the lighter mate¬ 
rials, while the more valuable and solid 
articles were left at the bottom.* 

1 he throne was overturned; the altars 
of religion were prostrated ; morality was 
voted a bug-bear; death was decreed to 
be an eternal sleep; and the goddess of 
lawless liberty, to which even slavery is to 

* Amongst all the dispensations of Providence, 
none is more uniform in its effects than that, which 
punishes men or nations, by the consequences of 
their own vicious and selfish errors: in proportion, 
as they grovel in the mire of discontent and faction, 
in the same proportion do they provoke and hasten 
their eventual castigation ; they detract also from 
their natural strength, and, by seeking to avoid 
imaginary evils, lay themselves open to real ones. 


101 


be referred, was placed up, like Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar’s image, to be worshipped and 
adored. Universal representation was 
then resorted to as a panacea for every 
evil, and a thousand tyrants, instantly, 
sprung forward in the place of an amiable 
monarch, to diffuse the blessings of free-- 
dom and equality, of the guillotine and 
proscription, over their distracted country; 
in short, scenes of such a terrific descrip¬ 
tion were exhibited in France, as to shake 
the foundation of almost every kingdom, 
and to loosen the key-stone of all civil in¬ 
stitutions. 

England looked on with awe, not un- 
mixed with some portion of fear, at tiie 
threatening subversion of every social sys¬ 
tem, and, preparing herself for the worst 
that might befal her, she wisely stood aloof 
from the furious ebullitions of French dis-- 
quietude : but, not satisfied with endea¬ 
vouring to divert the dreadful current of 
revolutionary intrigues and dangerous prin-- 

K 3 


ciples, and tired of being a silent spectaK 
tor, she, unguardedly, threw away the shield 
of prudence: she rashly resolved on an 
officious interference, and this interference 
generated an unnecessary war; popular 

discontent, already raging in perturbed 

< „ 

and seditious spirits, was rendered the 
greater by the impolicy of war;* strong 
remedies became necessary to repress these 
pruriencies of faction; then followed nu¬ 
gatory coalitions, an immense increase of 
debt, and financial expedients of an inju¬ 
rious nature—in short, difficulties and dan¬ 
gers appeared to rise in dreadful gradation 
above each other until, at length, to form 
the climax of error and evil united toge¬ 
ther, a deep and irresistible torrent, which 
no earthly power can, at present, confine 

* To wage war on the Continent was an arrant 
piece of knight-errantry; a political Quixotism 
which nothing could justify. Sir Walter Raleigh 
was of opinion, that land wars are highly injurious 
to England, and he published his sentiments on the 
subject, in a learned treatise. 


103 


within any reasonable limits, has rapidly ac¬ 
cumulated to overwhelm the continent; and 
England, impoverished by subsidiary ef¬ 
forts, bubbled by her allies, of whom she 
has been the constant tool, and ridiculed 
by her enemies; deteriorated in her cre*- 
dit; borne down by taxes; deeply wounded 
in her commerce; and depressed, in every 
respect, except as to her naval and mili«- 
tary prowess, has been thrown on a bed 
of sickness by political excesses, from 
whence the most powerful medicines can 
alone relieve her.* 

* Nothing can be more incontestable than, when 

either of the two parties in a war (originally equal) 

obtains a considerable superiority, that the other 
r i * 
must have sunk in a similar proportion. War, to 

be lawfully employed, should have a just political 
object to sanction the expenditure of money and the 
-waste of life ; but, for what object has England con¬ 
tended l If one ever existed, and she has not attained 
it, she has only weakened herself to no purpose, and 
strengthened the only foe who can assail her. \ Her 
late starts of unnatural vigour, (the expeditions to 
Spain, Portugal, and Walcheren), like the lettering 


10 £ 


France, on the contrary, has now arrived 
at that summit of power, to which, under 
the Bourbons, she less effectually aspired ; 
and her influence is seen to extend itself, 
either in a greater or lesser degree, all 
over Europe. 

With the exception of England and her de¬ 
pendencies, Europe is completely and phy¬ 
sically at her devotion; and the continental 
princes must be contented to confess her 
predominant empire, and yield to her de¬ 
crees without hesitation, until favourable cir¬ 
cumstances, or their united exertions, shall 
enable them to appear in arms, with some 
prospect of success, against their tyrant* 

erubescence on the cheek of an hectic, may have 
induced many to suppose that her general health 
unimpaired; but it is not so : although her lungs 
are not absolutely destroyed by suppurating ulcers, 
her frame, like a tender exotic, requires every deli¬ 
cate cherishment to produce a restoration of pristine 


105 


In former times, there was a balance oi 
power; and, when one nation dared to 
pass its limits, others could coalesce toge¬ 
ther to restore that balance: each power 
thus became a check, and was subject to 
check; and the weak could appeal for as¬ 
sistance to a stronger neighbour, who might 
call for aid, from his weaker one, whenever 
necessary. But there is now no balance 
or equipoise in the world to resist France, 
but England. In fact, England and France 
are the only two independent powers in 
the world, China and America alone ex¬ 
cepted ; for Russia can be termed nothing 
more than a department of France, which, 
although she cannot perhaps be actually 
conquered, is in such a state of political 
subserviency to France, as to fulfill all the 
meditated ends of her paralysation by him 
who overawes her councils; and Turkey, 
Spain, and Portugal, are mere feathers, 
or make-weights, in the scale oi nations: 
the former colossal power requiring only a 
vigorous attack from Russia, Austria* and 


106 


France, to fall for ever; and the latter two- 
having long reached that point where de¬ 
gradation begun, from which, allowing 
every possible success to their present ex¬ 
ertions, they must emerge, ere they can 
claim a title to independence, or render any 
essential service to the common cause.* 

Each coalition, that was formed by Mr. 
Pitt, added one link to the chains forging 
for the Continent of Europe, and each 
pitched battle, wherein France was victo¬ 
rious, and she has generally contrived to 
seal the fate of a country by one deci¬ 
sive stroke, only served to enslave the Con¬ 
tinent, to exalt France, and to depress 
England. 

* Here the writer cannot but notice, as a singular 
circumstance, that England should identify herself, 
as it were, with these two Roman Catholic powers, 
at the same time that she denies the least participa¬ 
tion to her own Catholics, in those privileges that are 
enjoyed by her Protestant subjects. This certainly 
may be denominated a political inconsistency t 1 


i or 

In evidence of this, the reader is re¬ 
quested to look at the map of the Conti¬ 
nent, # where we dare not now to set a 
permanent foot; what power is there on 
it, which is not, either directly or indi- 

* In looking however at this map, a few circum¬ 
stances should be duly estimated. Although the 
quantity of square miles in the united kingdom is 
only 28,460, and its population consists only of 
15 millions, yet the population per mile is only fifty- 
five less, and the revenue per mile is 2237/. more, 
than those of France. The square miles of JE* ranee, 
including her dependencies, amount to 143,110, 
and her population has been estimated at 80 mil¬ 
lions. The revenue of the United Kingdom is 
78,619,500/. while that of France and her depen¬ 
dencies is only 74 millions. The population in the 
United Kingdom is 500 per mile; in trance, &c. 
it is 555. The grateful and terrific are so nearly ba¬ 
lanced in this statement, that it would be difficult 
to decide which preponderates the most; as France, 
although she is so powerful in point of territory, 
is in comparative infancy in commercial pursuits, 
whereas England has attained the maximum of tax¬ 
ation, without an accompanying increase of com¬ 


merce* 


108 


rectly, controulable by a mighty hand, and 
compelled to bow beneath the tramplings 
of a conqueror? their destinies exist only 
at Buonaparte's fiat, and, should he chuse 
to annihilate every king to-morrow, and 
to consolidate the whole Continent into a 
western empire, can England prevent him ? 

The embryo of this unnatural power 
was first created,* and was then endea- 

* An helping hand was first lent to the grandeur 
of France, so far back as the reign of Kings Charles 
II. and James II. but the principal assistance was 
rendered in 1725, when, deluded by her artifices, in¬ 
trigues, and ambition, England entered into a strict 
alliance with her, by the Hanoverian treaty, in ex¬ 
press opposition to the house of Austria, then the 
only sure bulwark against the aggression of France. 
Thus, by fearing to support the balance of power in 
Austria, which ought to have been considered as the 
natural friend of England, England has, atlas t, found 
In France, that enemy, which she dreaded in Aus¬ 
tria. Another stroke was Inflicted on the Impe¬ 
rial house by the treaty at Seville, which united 
England, France, and Spain^ in a confederacy 


i 


109 


soured to be checked by England, in her 
excursive steps, when it was too late to ar- 

against it; so that the house of Austria, although 
the Pragmatic Sanction was guaranteed by Eng¬ 
land in 1731, gradually dwindling, became no lon¬ 
ger the object of fear or envy to that of Bourbon, 
and France elevated herself, in proportion to her 
rival’s weakness. IIow far these treaties may have 
accelerated the late wretched fate of Austria, the 
writer will not presume to determine: but certain 
it is, that the interests of this country, and the 
safety of Europe, were sacrificed to France in 
the times alluded to, and that England saw 
her error, when it was too late. The immortal 
Chatham called forth every energy, that able po¬ 
litics and well-conducted hostility to the natural 
foe of England, could command, to vanquish the. 
consequences of such purblind policy: but the 
.mischief had taken too strong a head to be entirely 
remedied. The real advantage to this country al¬ 
ways consisted in maintaining the balance of power 
in Europe; and for this purpose it became her duty, 
on all occasions, to take care, that, in every war 
between the continental powers, the parties should 
be as equally matched as possible, and that neither 
party should be permitted to push its success so far 
as to endanger the balance i an event which Fug- 

L 


) 


i 


110 

rest their progress. France alone, aidetf 
by a multiplicity of conspiring causes, has 

land, by throwing her power into the depressed 
side of the scale, in most instances, could pre¬ 
vent. 

If, by the strength of her natural situation, Eng¬ 
land could have no reason to apprehend danger but 
from one power, can any thing be more evident 
.than that she should have never entered into any 
alliance, but what was firmly united in interest 
against that power ? The house of Austria was, until 
of late, the power best able to .cope with France, and 
the hast capable of injuring England: consequently, 
to lessen the power of France, should have been, at 
all times, the fundamental policy of England; and 
it was, on this principle, that the. Revolution was ef¬ 
fected by her great deliverer, King William. But, 
vas miserae ! the policy was speedily abandoned : 
England, by repeatedly connecting he.rself with 
France, in precarious friendships, first pinioned the 
imperial eagle, and then clipped its wings; in a few” 
fleeting years she saw her error, and, in later times, 
has endeavoured to remedy it, in the vrorst possible 
way, that is, by opposing a pow er that she had first 
weakened, to one that she had strove to exalt by all 
possible means. What else, then, could be expected 
than that Austria should succumb to the destiny, or 
ra ther to the primary causes, occasioned by England ! 


I 


in 


Reached a dizzy eminence, while ever) otnei 
state that has been so impolitic as to pio- 
voke attack, in more modern times, has 
kicked the balance, or been laid prostrate 
on the ground. 


But, in what respect, is England exalted r 
where is her accession to prosperity and 
power? where is her condensation oi ac¬ 
quired territory ? where are the advan¬ 
tages that she has gained from a misma¬ 
naged and unavailing, contest r are not 
her ministers-dismayed, and at issue on 
the best modes of procedure r is not her 
population uneasy at the prospect of the 
future? and have not the designing and 


factious too large a field, in existing causes, 
to excite discontent at the evils accumu¬ 
lated, and accumulating, in every direction 
around us? Can England now dictate 
to the whole world, as she was wont to do, 
or be eagerly sought for, as a mediatrix be¬ 
tween independent powers ? where is the 
once formidable -house of Austria, ten 


l 2 


whose support this nation has, of late, and 
tco late , expended so much blood and 

* i 

treasure ? where are the immense territo¬ 
ries acquired and united together by 
Charles the Fifth ? where is the balance of 
power, chiefly maintained by that house, 
and so necessary to have been preserved 
for the peace of Europe P is not Austria 

reduced by the extinction of her Germanick 

%/ 

title? are not her territories assigned to 
the Rhenish confederation ? and has not the 
balance of power, perhaps for ever, trans¬ 
ferred itself to other hands ?* Where is 

* It is impossible to say what effects Buona¬ 
parte’s marriage with the Archduchess of Austria 
may have on the Continent; it is, nevertheless, cer¬ 
tain, that he can do more for Austria in the way 

of remuneration, than all the other powers of Eu- 

* * 

rope, united together :—but that remuneration will 
not consist in the restoration of her former domi¬ 
nions. To her, perhaps, may be allotted a consider¬ 
able part of the Turkish territory, and perhaps all 
that remains of Prussia; dissensions will be conti¬ 
nually kept alive between her and Russia; and 
France will make use of Austria, as an aclire in-, 


113 


once commercial and industrious Holland ? 
is she not now an annexation to France' does 
Prussia now exist as an independent na¬ 
tion ? and where are the armies schooled in 
the discipline of Frederick the Great r does 
not the sword of annihilation hang suspend¬ 
ed over her head by a single ligament; and 
were not those armies dissipated, at a single 
blow, upon the plains of Jena : what is 
Denmark but a tool of France, and what 
is gallant Sweden but the victim of her 
noble exertions, and an unhappy fascina¬ 
tion by the continental basilisk ? can Eng¬ 
land, who urged most oi these powers to 
useless contention, again restore them to 
their former height? can she renew that 
balance which she has destroyed ? alas. 

strument, in the promotion of her ambitious and 
ulterior designs. One advantage, at least, may 
arise from this revivification of Austria, and this is, 
that she may eventually acquire her antient terri¬ 
tories, give them stability, and become again an 
equipoise t# her present mistress. 

; L 3 


IM 


she, that, once, sent the combatants to bat¬ 
tle, can, now, do no more than attempt the 
salvation of her own independence ! she, 
that, once, could have really served the 
Continent by not tempting it with gold to 
fight in vain ; must:, now, muster every 
energy to defend her own possessions ! she 
is, now, not only humbled and underva¬ 
lued in her own eyes, and in those of Eu¬ 
rope, but, like Carthage, in its final strug¬ 
gle with Rome, she has to contend for her 
very existence, with an empire, almost as 
powerful as Rome then was*- 

•-* '■ - • T, / 

Of Buonaparte’s ambitious views, nothing 
now remains but the fulfilment of his de¬ 
signs on India, and the subjugation of 
England: for his primary object, the over¬ 
throw of the Continent has been com¬ 
pletely effected. 

Let any one reflect on his past deeds,, 
and say, if these conquests are beyond his 


/ 


115 


power, or physically impossible: the ca¬ 
pabilities of human nature, the daring ef¬ 
forts of a superior mind, and the coined 
dencies oi chance, co-operating with pu¬ 
sillanimity, inefficiency, defection, and 
treachery, may be easily estimated, in a 
superior degree, by what has already* 
taken place; and, if they are allowed to* 
be a fair criterion, which they certainly 
are, what may not be expected from the 
ruler of France, whose ambition, directed 
by an almost unerring capacity, and 
pointed by the most deadly enmity to this 
country, can know no completion but in her 
ruin, no joy but in her down [all?* In short, 
France is, absolutely,incontroulable,except 
by that power, which has permitted her to 
soar, almost beyond mortal ken, for pur- 

* Dr. Faber has much curious matter respecting 
Buonaparte’s designs on India, which well merits 
perusal. Present appearances give considerable 
weight to Dr. Faber’s suppositions, and the battle 
of Armegiddow, in the Holy Land, is, by no means, 
an improbable event. 


116 


poses, that, however they may be eventually 
unknown in their future effects to finite ex¬ 
pectations* have not been without a lesson, 
throughout their course. France has, now,, 
no need to affect a generosity from fear, 
or to exhibit liberality from a sense of 
danger: as she is so deeply indebted to 
her ruler for her present greatness, it would 
be ridiculous to suppose, that, tired as she 
must be, of the calamitous consequences 
of antecedent times, and sick of the hypo¬ 
crisy of her rulers, and turbulence of fac¬ 
tion, she can wish to tumble him from the 
throne he has usurped, or try another ex¬ 
periment of French regeneration. A sense 
of gratitude, if nothing else, must induce 
her to be acquiescent under his arrange¬ 
ments—indeed, no rational man can wish 
for a return of those scenes, that disgraced 
human nature, and made man shudder 
that he was a man : nor could any possible 
good arise from a fresh raking of expiring 
embers, which England, in fact, is not in 
a condition to vivify, and, even if she could. 


117 


it would be .insanity itself for her to at- 

m/ 

tempt. 

She has suffered, deeply, in every point, 
since her unnecessary interference in the 
revolution of France; and the lance of 
war, so wantonly hurled, was not only cast 
at an untimely hour, and shivered in vain; 
but—it has recoiled on the hand that threw 
it, and inflicted deep wounds, which a 
century, at least, will be required to heal. 

/ 

And, yet, the evils attendant on the com¬ 
mencement and subsequent continuance 
of a subsidiary system, on the part of Eng¬ 
land, have produced no conviction of its 
impolicy, nor awakened any precaution: al¬ 
though our national debt is almost too great 
to be mentioned, # and our revenue has 

* On the 5th of January, 1780, the public 
funded debt was <^144,083,414 : 12.?. : and 

the interest and management thereof ,^£5,506,999 : 
U.: 4l d.; on the 5th of January, in this year, the 
debt was ^784,552,142: 6s.: 7 d. and the in 


118 


been increased, by taxation, more than six-* 
fold in twenty-eight years ;* although sixty 
millions sterling ot guineas have been coined 
during the present reign, and, on a late dis¬ 
astrous expedition, no more than 125,000/. 
in specie could be collected to accompany 
the armament although, on the 12th 

tercst and management thereof, j€ 29,992,565, (in¬ 
dependent of the annual burthen of <^1,500,000 
in sinecures, and <^2,107,000 discharged at several 
times on the civil list) of which immense debt, the 
whole has been contracted during the fatal Ame¬ 
rican, and the last and present French wars, except 
125 millions, the amount of the national debt at 
the commencement of the former war in 1775. 

* The growth of the revenue has been most ra¬ 
pid. The net proceeds of its produce, in 1782, 
were only ten millions ; by the year 1792, they had 
risen to sixteen millions, and, in the present year, 
they amount to more than seventy millions; thus, in 
the course of 2S years, our revenue has advanced 
no less than seven fold, and yet, notwithstanding 
this increase, our expenditure exceeds our revenue 
by twenty-one millions. 

+ From this circumstance, some idea may be. 
formed of the immense extent to which the expor— 


119 


>of January, in the present year, the national 
paper issued amounted to 21,406,930 L 
{being an increase, in one and two pound 
notes of 1,548,250/. since last year) and 
that paper is at a considerable deprecia¬ 
tion ; although there are, now, more than 
800 country banks, which circulate up¬ 
wards of sixteen millions artificially cre¬ 
ated, to bolster up a false credit, and en¬ 
courage speculation;* although, as has 

* 

tation of gold must have been carried ; but, in this 
instance, (the expedition to Walclveren) there was a 
double pecuniary loss, (independent of 4000 men. 
having perished, and 11,000 having become sick, 
and unfit for service, out of 37,000, the original 
force, and exclusive of the expense requisite to 
supply their places with other soldiers) first, by the 
loss to the country of <^*125,000 in coin, and, se- 
condljr, by the extraordinary expenditure of 
^£83 4,275: 10s. : Id. in paper money. 

* As the bank increases its issues of paper, (say 
io the amount of three millions), they enable country 
banks to add more than twelve millions to the general 
.circulation of England, i he necessity of a bank re*, 
striction in 1797, and the consequences of a forced 


120 


been asserted by our most able financiers, 
taxation has attained its maximum , and 
our expenditure must be curtailed; yet, 
with all these Facts before their eyes, with 
all these alarming proofs of the conse¬ 
quences of error, our statesmen, still, per¬ 
severe in detaching our troops to foreign 
countries ; in alienating our treasuie, and 
in endeavouring to procure independence 
for countries, which neither meiit, nor 
are in a state to receive, the invaluable 

prize. 

Instead of the dismal mutation ol afiairs, 
on the Continent, having excited their at¬ 
tention in this awful conjunctuie, instead 
of reflecting, that, by thus frittering away 

paper extention in America and t ranee, at the pe¬ 
riod of their revolutionary career, should prevent 
England from persevering in a system so pregnant 
with disasters; particularly, as there is no longer 
any vibration between the balance of actual wealth 
and the paper circulation, each of which should bf 
supported and maintained by each. 


the resources of the country in a hopeless 
cause, they are only magnifying the bulk 
of a power, already too great and too 
formidable for the security of England j 
instead of striving to effect a radical and 
thorough retrenchment in every depart¬ 
ment, and to bring her expenditure within 
her income, from which her chief means of 
combating the dangers that now surround 
her, can be collected, they proceed in infa¬ 
tuation, and Buonaparte, smiling at their 
folly, looks to her prodigality^ more than 
to his arms, for the overthrow of his rival. 

Every expedition, that quits the British 
shores, must be a source of gratification to 
him; for, independent of the troops, whose 
lives are, vainly, surrendered to the sword, 
or more powerful disease, a certain quan¬ 
tity of money, eventually, becomes his spoil, 
and is, at the same time, lessening one of 
the best resources of England. 

While such a system shall be persevered 

M 


* 


m 

in, who can say, where a chance may oc¬ 
cur of a termination to our present perils ? 
While insanity on one side, in English mi¬ 
nisters, and ability on the other, in Buo¬ 
naparte, shall oppose each other, what can 
be expected, but a ruinous catastrophe? 
Buonaparte, like fate, moves, steadily, to his 
purpose. England perplexes and injures 
herself by zig-zag operations, which have 
neither motive, operation, nor result. Buo- 
naparteis actively, and wisely cementing his 
various acquisitions, by all means that policy 
can dictate. England pays more attention 
to foreign powers, than to her own safety; 
and sacrifices her soldiers, her money, and 
chance of salvation, on the altar of ideal 
hope, that another such day as that, on 
which hung the fate of Europe, in the last 
Austrian campaign, may again occur, 
wherein France may be forced to yield 
the palm to the influence of misfortune. 

France, it has been said, possesses only 
a military occupation of the countries, ‘she 


ms 


lias subdued, or overrun ; her customs too* 
from 1806 to 1809, decreased two mil¬ 
lions : is the former a sufficient excuse for 
England’s rushing blindly to destruction, 
because that occupation may be, merely, 
temporary ? or is the latter meant to be 
adduced, as the only proof of our having 
injured France? 

In whatsoever' way the subject is con¬ 
sidered, it must be vain to deny, that the 
present crisis is as full of difficulties and 
dangers to England, as any that can be 
noticed in the annals of her history : for, 
if ever England was weak in- comparison 
with her enemy; if ever'she has had to 
strive, for life and security; that melan¬ 
choly period has, now, arrived, and she has 
to encounter it too, under a thousand dis¬ 
advantages. 

"A 

With respect to commerce, that moral 
soul of the political world, as a French 
author has, energetically, termed it, it has, 

m 2 


1M 


of late years, insinuated itself, so deeply, 
into the system of England, as to become 
equally essential to her organization, as to 
her existence. 

The general fondness, in this country, 
for foreign luxuries and exotic commo¬ 
dities, has generated such an appetite for 
trade, and the profits, to be derived from 
its exercise, are so considerable, that it has, 
long, become the source of her principal 
prosperity : and war, conducted as in for¬ 
mer times, although it lessened the funds, 
which commerce created, was an advantage 

n *. 1 • ^ , t - M' 

rather than an injury to a wealthy people; 
because a poor nation cannot prove so for¬ 
midable as a rich one, (whose strength 
consists, as much in wealth as in the fruits 
ot conquest) when war, independent of 
the, capability ot its continuance' bv iiou- 
risking finances, has hardened and arouzed 
loose energies, that had sunk, from peace, 
into luxurious effeminacy. 


125 


But England is, now, not only engaged 
in a war, exceedingly different from any 
she has been, already, engaged in, but in a 
w 7 ar, infinitely more dangerous and more ex¬ 
pensive, than she has the means to continue 
on her present system. The greatness of 
England depends, so much, on the vigour of 
her commerce, that every thing, which tends 
to lessen or increase that commerce, mu3t, 
necessarily, diminish or augment her great¬ 
ness.* The former, unfortunately, is the 
• ' * 

* If the merchant-neither export, nor the manu¬ 
facturer work up as many articles as formerly; if 
the artisan be retrenched in his wages or want of 
employment, from whence can the greatness of 
England arise? so long as the exporter, the whole¬ 
sale dealer, the manufacturer, and the workman 
feel the decay of commerce, it is an imposition upon 
the public to say, as many have lately said, that 
the commerce of England is, actually, increased. 
The increase of our trade or commerce depends on 
the quantity of goods we manufacture in, and ex¬ 
port from, every part of our dominions, and thm 
quantity of the transport trade, which the people, in 
any part of these dominions, can possess themselves.-* 

. M 3 



present case : from the shutting of the con¬ 
tinental market, such a glut of comraod?- 

of: but the trade of the British dominions, in general, 
is vary different from the particular trade of these 
islands, which is regulated, entirely, by the produce 
of their manufactures and the opportunities or fa¬ 
cility, of exporting them to other parts of the world. 
What is it, that has increased the number of people 
residing in the united kingdom, so much beyond 
what it was two or three hundred years ago ? is it 
not the vast increase, in our manufacturing establish¬ 
ment of all kinds, within that period ? what occa¬ 
sioned this vast increase, of our manufactures? it 
was the ready sale we found for them, in most parts 
of Europe, exclusive of other places in the habita¬ 
ble globe. What has been the cause of this ready 
sale ? it was because they were sold cheaper at every 
foreign market, than such manufactures could be 
sold by any of our rivals. And what was the 
reason of their being sold cheaper ? it was because 
industrious persons could live better and cheaper, 
at that period, in this country, and consequently 
could afford to work for less wages than in any 
country, that was, then, our rival in manufactures. 
For many years past, from the increased price of 
labour, which has, naturally, raised the price of 
©ur manufactures, and, from late untoward events. 



tics has taken place in her own, that, from; 
the expense incurred by preparing the mu 


they have not been in such a' state of request as 
formerly ; the other nations of Europe have set up 
manufactories of their own, which, in many in¬ 
stances, can send forth their goods cheaper than 
ours : and the crisis i-s at length arrived, so long 
anticipated by various political writers, when, from 
the destruction of the proportion between the de¬ 
mand and supply-, and the springing np of rivals to 
profit by it, it has become necessary, that new 
vents should be tried to diffuse our commerce, or 
our manufactures must, soon, be con fined,-solely, to 
home consumption. Buonaparte’s decrees have, 
merely, accelerated this event, anu not, as many sup¬ 
pose, actually, occasioned it. 

To pursue the subject. There is a mutual re¬ 
lation between the manufacturer and customer: 
as the manufacturer cannot live without the cus¬ 
tomer, so the latter looks to the former, for the arti¬ 
cles he wants. Were the one destitute of tools and 
the other of wants, commerce would be unneces¬ 
sary; but, there is a necessary vibration between 
the two, and, whenuthe pendulum is stopped, in¬ 
convenience follows as a thing of course. Upon the 
whole, it is to be feared, that false accounts of cur 


128 


\ 


for exportation, and the difficulty, if not 
impossibility, of dispersing them through 
their usual channels, severe losses have been 
occasioned to her merchants, by the fai¬ 
lure of interest on their respective capi¬ 
tals, and her artizans have been impove¬ 
rished, by the decrease in the calls for their 
further labour.- 

Some vents, undoubtedly, have been 

wealth, which have been too prevalent, of late years, 
are not raised with a good design; for those, who 
disseminate them, must know that the stock in 
the hands of the general mass is much less than 
it, once, was when impolitic alliances, vain coali¬ 
tions, ineffective expeditions, and wasteful profu¬ 
sion, were not so much in vogue, as at the present 
day. If the nation be overloaded with riches, it is 
very fit, that it should be eased of the burthen; 
and it must be confessed, there are many in it, who 
have an excellent talent of getting rid of superflui¬ 
ties and drafting off the peccant humours: indeed, 
even of late, they have used such strong suckers, 
that the pump, already, is nearly dry. If we want 
proofs of this, they are, tolerably, evident in our 
bankruptcies and private distresses. 


129 


found, by means of the system of licences; 
but it must be recollected, that the licences 
cannot be extended to all, so as to form a 
general trade; and that they enable France 
to carry on her commerce with almost 
€(]iial facility : so that the blow, aimed at 
her Berlin decrees by our orders in coun¬ 
cil, has, perhaps, rendered more advantage 
than injury to France, without rendering 
any thing like a compensatory return to 
England. 

Br: x :; 

It may be replied to this assertion, that 
the English customs, last year, increased 
two millions, in proportion to a decrease, 
to a similar amount,, in the French cus¬ 
toms : but, will this increase pay a third 
of theiosfces on capital sustained by English 
traders ; or can it justify the tyranny, that 
the orders in council have had the effect of 
establishing on the seas: a tyranny or sys¬ 
tem of maritime jurisprudence, too nearly 
resembling that created by Buonaparte on 
the Continent, and equally foreign to hu- 


manity, as contrary to our practice in 175b, 
■which Montesquieu conceived was so 
highly entitled to praise ? 

It may be replied also, that the orders in 1 

\ 

council are not contrary to Magna Charta, 
or the laws of nations; and. that the French - 
decrees preceded the British orders, which* 
were, merely, the offspring of a political re¬ 
taliation. All this may be very true ; but 
yet, in the writer’s humble opinion, both- 
the decrees and orders are violations of 
neutral rights, and^ in proportion to the 
amplitude of power possessed by any 
nation, should be the equity of its direc¬ 
tion. 

/ 

* / 1 ' g A ^ 

The contest, between the decrees and 

orders, resembles a cessation of intercourse 

between two obstinate and haughty indi- 

viduals, neither ol whom will do justice to 

those who are chiefly interested in the dis- 

» 

pute: private rancour sets humanity at 
complete defiance, and the distresses of 


the innocent are, totally, unthought of** ; 
It is certain, however, that the Berlin de¬ 
crees and orders in council, like all other 
consequences, arising from England’s first 
interference with the revolutionary vol¬ 
cano, have produced inconvenience and 
detriment to England, and these circum- 

* The writer cannot, omit, here, the following ex¬ 
tract from an address of the house of representatives 
to the Governor of Massachusets. 

“ England and France, on the professed princi*. 
pie of annoying each other, have, wantonly, intro*, 
duced a system, equally r< pugnant to the usages of 
nations, theimmunities of neutrals, and the dictates 
of justice. The one, with the mastery of the 
ocean, and the other, with the dominion of the 
Continent, have produced incalculable private dis¬ 
tress and public embarrassments. For either of 
them there is no apology, no excuse, which in the 
moment of returning reason and candour, justice 
would not blush to own. Instead of being beue* 
factors to mankind; instead of promoting the pros*, 
perity of nations and extending the circle of human 
happiness, che destructive consequences of their 
#onduct are felt, in every quarter of the globe.” 



stances point out the necessity of resorting 
to such measures, to injure our enemy, as 
rnav be the most divested of continued 
detriment to ourselves, and the most 
likely to effect the desired purpose. 

Another ultimate consequence of the 
Frencii Revolution, or, rather, ot the insa¬ 
nity of our continental measures, has arisen, 
by an increased (although not unusual) 
introduction of foreign troops into these 
islands. In the first place, the employ¬ 
ment of these troops is contrary to our 
constitution; and, in the next place, it 
proves, that the defalcation in our military 
ranks has been so great, from improvident 
expeditions, that the deficiency cannot be 
supplied by our own population : but, 
surely, in such critical times as these, no 
care or caution can be too great, to keep, 
at a distance, every contingency of future 
peril. 

Will any one say, that no apprehension 


I 


m/ h: . ' 133 

\ 

is to be entertained from foreign soldiers, 
many of whom have fought and bled for 
our enemy, many of whom were, born 
in his territories, and must be natu¬ 
rally attached to their “ natale solum?” 
let it be supposed, for one moment, that an 
invasion of this country should succeed, to a 
certain extent! are foreign troops likely to 
draw their swords against their successful 
countrymen ? is it not more probable that 
they would remain inactive, in their scab¬ 
bards, or perhaps be turned against those, 
who have so long fed, nourished, and 
adorned them ? let it, for one moment, be 
imagined, that this subsidiary force should 
join the French prisoners in our several 
depots! would not an army be instantly 
formed in our very intestines, perhaps more 
than sufficient to seal the fate of England 

Ejfl • • | f © 

for ever? 

/ 

• i ■ 

Without meaning to libel the foreign 
troops, now roaming, at large, throughout 
these realms, or to call even in question 


\ 


V 


134 


/ 


their general propriety and strictness of 
discipline, the writer must, and will say, 
and, in so doing, he believes he expresses a 
general sentiment, that an English force 
would not only be better fitted to guard 
the laws and liberties of their country (it 
a military force be at all requisite to effect 
such a purpose), but, at the same time, 
would prove less galling to the feelings of 
Englishmen, and, certainly, more conso¬ 
nant to the constitution. 


Many foreign generals have been placed 
in the command of our military districts, 
over English officers and English troops, 
that, in every battle, have defeated those, 
who conquered these foreigners; do 
these circumstances tend to uphold our 
military ardour, so absolutely indispensa¬ 
ble at the present moment? has it not had, 
and must it not, if the system be pursued, 
continue to have, the effect of inducing 
many gallant gentlemen to throw up their 
commissions, at a period, when their per- 


135 


sonal intrepidity and valuable stakes in the 
land, point them out as the fittest defen¬ 
ders of that country, of which there is every 
motive, whether natal, relative, or per¬ 
sonal, to animate their defence? 

» ' \ -. ^ 

Many other arguments might be alleged, 
against the impolicy and illegality of our 
admitting • foreign levies on our military 
establishment: but the writer will content 
himself with those already adduced, merely 
submitting his humble opinion, that fo¬ 
reigners should not be permitted to eat 
that bread, and to enjoy those comforts, 
which a great portion of the lower classes, 
and even many of the middle order, are 
absolutely disabled from obtaining, by the 
expence of their procurement. 

It becomes necessary, now, to advert to 
the well-known scarcity of corn and oats 
in the British islands. It is, certainly, 
wonderful, that, in countries rendered so 
fertile by nature and by art, in countries, 

N 2 


136 


so replete with agricultural societies, 
and so thickly sown with great landed 
proprietors, the necessity of applying 
to the Continent, and particularly to our 
enemy, for such indispensable articles, 
should be allowed to exist, while thou¬ 
sands of our own acres, which might be, 
beneficially, appropriated to the culture ot 
grain, lie fallow and neglected. ' 

If this scarcity arise from agricultural 
neglect, it speaks but little for the.utility 
of our agricultural societies: but, if it 
spring from the deficiency of labourers to 
manage our lands, that deficiency must 
have been occasioned by some causes; and 
these causes may, perhaps, be found, first, 
in the diversion of these labourers from the 
employments of the field to military ser¬ 
vices, and next, in the wanton expenditure 
of their lives, in calamitous expeditions. 

* , N 

But, whatever may be the real cause of 
the scarcity complained of, it cannot be 


137 


controverted, that England is compelled to 
resort to foreign countries for wheat and 
oats no time, then, should be lost in ren- 

* The value in wheat and oats imported into 
London, alone, during six months, from foreign 
countries, principally from France, in the last year 
amounted to £ I,3S2,350 : which sum was paid in 
specie, and, besides finding its way into his domi¬ 
nions, yielded a revenue to Buonaparte, by his duties 
on exportation, of ^205,766. Thus we have been 
enriching our enemy with that valuable circulating, 
medium, the want of which is so universally felt; 
and have been impoverishing ourselves, merely to 
procure those necessaries, which our own soil, if 
properly managed, would amply produce ! ! ! Un¬ 
der these circumstances, it is equally necessary, that 
the interests of agriculture should be encouraged 
as those of trade, in order to maintain the just 
mean, which supports the former without injuring 
the latter, and eventually proves for the good of 
both. Perhaps, nothing would tend more to destroy 
the necessity of importing grain, than the moderate 
discontinuance of the preference given to pasture 
land, instead of tillage, (on account of the formation 
of extensive dairies,) and a general inclosure bill, for 
all waste lands, throughout the realm. A bounty 
might, also, be given to the cultivators of grain, not 

N 3 


138 


dering these islands equal to the main¬ 
tenance of their whole population; and, 
if hands are wanting to raise the necessary 
crops, the foreign troops might convert 
their swords to ploughshares, and, so, yield 
an infinitely better service than they now 
yield, to the nation that feeds them. 

/ 

We have,, too long, played into the 
schemes of Buonaparte; he w r antsv our 
coin, we want his corn and oats; and a 
plan more calculated to aid his designs 
and to accelerate our destruction, could not 
be thought of: for, as he well knows, coin 
is the main channel of the “ vis vitas’" of a 

i _ 

political body, from which branch out the 

inferior veins and arteries, that diffuse the 

genial current of existence through every 

part; coin is, and has proved, his best 

ally email occasions: lie has ascertained the 
•/ 

efficacy of his panacea, and he, sagaciously, 

t 

• • - ^ 

.too great to affect the pasture lands in a material 
degree, nor too inadequate to prove a stimulus. 


139 


strives to collect as much as he can from 
every country. 

t 

But the most material circumstance of 
the consequences of the French Revolu¬ 
tion, as yet to notice, is Buonaparte’s* 

* It may have been remarked by the reader, that 
the writer has not, once, dignified Buonaparte with 
the title of emperor ; he has, purposely, avoided it, 
because he conceives,that, to honour such an enemy, 
is to degrade both himself and his country. 

• •. *'* y 

Buonaparte’s assumption of the imperial purple 
has not, yet, been acknowledged by the English go¬ 
vernment; (the writer sincerely trusts it never will 
be) and it would be arrogant and inconsistent in 
him, (supposing thathe were, at all, inclined to ofter 
obeisance to an individual, who abuses the powers 
with which providence has invested him) as a pri¬ 
vate person, to bestow an appellation, which that 
government does not choose to recognize. 

Many instances, no doubt, may be pointed out 
in the public papers , of a contrary practice; but 
Mr. Fox’s guarded correspondence with the French 
government, in which he, merely, terms Buonaparte 


140 


-K 


divorce from Josephine, and his recent al¬ 
liance with the house of Austria. 

» 

Were any circumstance necessary to 
prove the ambitious nature of the Corsi¬ 
can’s mind, these singular transactions, 
“ these solemn mockeries,” this inoculation 
ot the worthless stock of his own base roy¬ 
alty with a legitimate scion, would, alone, 
corroborate it. How much, indeed, must 
Austria have fallen to submit to the gros - 
sierte of motive, assigned by Buonaparte 
for this alliance ! with what imperiousness 
must ruthless necessity have swayed her 
emperor, when nothing less than the un¬ 
hallowed sacrifice of a modern Iphigenia 
could appease his lustful conqueror ! when 
his usurped throne could be cemented, 
only, by the hand of a Bourbon ! » 

* \ 

This marriage, whether considered in a 

its head or chief, is an example, that should teach 
a discontinuance of adulatory servility. 


141 


political, civil, or moral view, is calculated 
to excite the most varied emotions, of 
which hope, so far as the Continent is con¬ 
cerned, should be the most predominant. 

By this marriage the ancient means of ag* 
grandizement, to which the house of Austria 
has formerly owed so much, may be again 
in her power; and are likely to produce 
that security to her weakened empire, 
which all her armies in coalition with all 
the other military powers of the Continent, 
and supported by this country, have been 
unable to effect.'* 

* “ Bella gerant alii; tu felix, Austria, nube! 

Quae dat Marsaliis, dat tibi regna Venus.” 

One circumstance, however, may prevent the ve¬ 
rification of this remark, and that is, the want of sur¬ 
viving issue in Buonaparte’s new consort; in such a 
case, the relentless fury of Mars would be only, tem¬ 
porarily, repressed by the blandishments of Venus, 
and another wife would be sought, for the sake of 
perpetuating the Continental scourge. At all events, 


M2 


For the present, at all events, it tends 
to calm the ebullitions of the Continent, 
and unite its various vassals under one 
head; by,removing to a greater distance 
than ever all present hopes of divisions 
and cabals : but if, at the same time, it is 
considered, that Austria is, thus, rescued 
from the jaws of destruction, and that she 
may, in future time, acquire and resume 
her usual and natural dominion, there are 
strong grounds of expectation, that Europe 
may, again, be separated into different in¬ 
dependent powers, each acting as a con- 
iroul upon the other. 

But it is lamentable to add, that much 
must be suffered by England, and much 

'' > • % 

during Buonaparte’s existence, Austria will not b« 
permitted to exalt herself. Like the vampyre bat 
of Surinam, Buonaparte will flutter over his victim, 
the Continent, and fan it into deeper slumbers until 
he has sucked its life-blood away, and exhausted 
trery power of revivification. 


♦ 


143 


endured by the Continent, ere this expec¬ 
tation can be realized : in the mean time, 
England will have to contend, single- 
handed, not merely with France, but with 
the whole of Europe, and every attempt, 
possible to be undertaken, will be made, 
either to force her into a hollow peace, or 
to overwhelm her with ruin, by fomenting 
divisions within her bosom, and under¬ 
mining the foundations of her wealth and 
prosperity. 

Should these attempts fail, still, England 
can expect no immediate advantages from 
the peace of the Continent. France, alike 
ambitious tinder the monarchical^ republi¬ 
can, directorial, consular, and imperial go¬ 
vernment, and standing in a natural degree of 
rivalship to England, will be, at all future 
times, what, in past ages, she has always been, 
either her secret or avowed enemy; an ene¬ 
my, in fact, wdiose natural means of being 
injurious to her, she has herself augmented 


144 


by her own follies : she first propelled the 
unwieldy colossus into overwhelming mo¬ 
tion, and its momentum can only be 
checked, by the decrees of fate. 

So much for the consequences of one 
rash step, and such the end of attempts to 
reduce France, to the necessity of living 
upon equitable terms with her neighbours; 
who began with violating that very equity, 
which they professed w y as so much their 
object! Can the eye close itself against such 
a combination of afflictive circumstances ? 
and does not the mind, like the sensitive 
plant, recoil at their terrifying and rude 
assailment? 

The knell of the French revolution, 

/ 

even now, lingers on the listening ear; that 
knell is a memento of wars, massacres, 
and ambitious outrages—of the subversion 
of states; the revolution of earthly sys¬ 
tems ; and the exaltation of a destroyer— 


/ 


145 


shall this knell be permitted to float away 
on air, without penetrating to the hearts 
of those who hear it ? shall it not incul¬ 
cate wisdom, and excite experience to 
amended practice ? 





■o 


}46 


CHAP. IV. 


The future expectancies of England and 
the remedies , of which her situation is 
susceptible. 

WHEN we have long traversed a gloomy 
path, the transition to brighter objects is 
more than grateful : hope illumines the 
prospect, and we, gladly, hail her cheering 
beams. 

# ' : ' j 

In surveying the situation of England 
and her future expectancies, although 
there may be much to terrify, to external 
appearance, there is much also to dissi¬ 
pate every serious alarm, and to create not 
merely an ideal expectation, that no injury, 





occasioned to her hardy stamina, by con-* 
tinental excesses, is incapable of cure, by 
regular habits and a steady regimen : but 
this cure must be, necessarily, progressive; 
one, two, or three years cannot rectify the 
consequences of a false policy, pursued 
through twenty; and time-only, the general 
healer of every sorrow, can cicatrize her 
numerous wounds. 

Happily for herself, after all her disas¬ 
ters, England possesses resources of an 
immense extent, in the excellence of her 
constitution; the wealth of the nation 
(which undoubtedly is great, however it 
may be confined, but to a few hands); the 
bravery of her population, and a powerful 
fleet: in beneficially using and applying 
- these powers, she may be, still, safe, formi¬ 
dable, and permanent; but, in proportion 
as they are permitted to go to decay) she 
must become more feeble, and hasten her 
progress to the common fate of men and 
nations. 


o 2 


148 


As the Almighty, alone, can humble a 
power, which has scaled a pyramid formed 
of evils, that may chiefly trace their origin 
to England, and England is left to com¬ 
bat alone in the vast struggle, she is, 
imperiously, called on to do every thing 
that can be done, to husband her re¬ 
sources ; to correct her errors p to repress 
luxury; and to busy herself in harmonious 
arrangements, that may tend to a grand 
union in her own bosom, against every 
thing derogatory to her honour; ener¬ 
vating of her remaining energies ; destruc¬ 
tive of her financial resources; and sub¬ 
versive of political or civil virtue : by such 
means, alone, she can atone for the imbeci¬ 
lity of her subservience to contrary prac¬ 
tices. 


But, although France has reached al¬ 
most an unparallelled acme, and no po¬ 
tentate on earth can reduce her into rea¬ 
sonable limits, England has little to fear 
from her menaces, while state sagacity 


149 


and public and private virtue shall render 
her faithful to her own interests. France 
has, wisely, concentred herself within her¬ 
self, by surrounding her territories with 

bulwarks of other states, that must be 

* 

combated and vanquished, before any as¬ 
sailant can penetrate into her interior 
parts. England should, also, concentre 
herself within herself, within those bul¬ 
warks, that are integral parts of her domi¬ 
nions and compose her shores, which no 

enemy, in the dilapidated state of the con- 

/ 

tinental navy, can reach without her per¬ 
mission, at least not without impunity. 

_ i ' ' I' X 

France rules the Continent, but has few 
ships, and no colonies, while her com¬ 
merce is merely inland, and not at all 
proportioned to her vast necessities. Eng¬ 
land commands the ocean, # and, conse¬ 
quently, every available power of diffusing 

* Pacatum volitant per marc navitge.” 

o 3 


150 


her commerce : but the Continent, to her, 
is a “ noli me tangere,” which she cannot 
touch without a sting. Her commerce, 
colonial territory, and the actual defence 
of the state itself require the maintenance 
of a naval power to support them (al¬ 
though political or ambitious reasons have, 
unhappily, induced her to deviate from 
that system, which prudence and nature 
have pointed out): the local situation of 
France, on the contrary, requires armies 
more than fleets; she has no colonies that 
need protection, and, “ from her situa¬ 
tion,” says Buonaparte in his intercepted 
letter to the Queen of Sicily, “ needs no 
islands, since, topographically speaking, in 
reality none belong to her.” With respect 
to a marine, she will, soon, be enabled to 
carry on a commerce within herself, by 
means of her military roads and the innu¬ 
merable canals that intersect her empire in 
every direction ; besides it may almost be 
asserted, that naval tactics are unsuitable 


i 


151 


to the genius of the French, who, indepen¬ 
dent of their natural “ amor niartis,” have 
innumerable reasons for preferring mili¬ 
tary operations to those, in which the use¬ 
lessness of contending against England, 
as a maritime power, has been long appa¬ 
rent. 

Such being the case, it would be equal 
madness in England to invade France 
without an army, as it would be insanity 
in France to attempt the conquest of Eng¬ 
land without a fleet: each power is illimi¬ 
table on its respective element, and each is 
almost equally out of the reach of each, as 
the North pole is inaccessible to naviga¬ 
tors. Partial injuries, no doubt, may be 
effected on either side; but these injuries 
will have no other effect than widening a 
breach, that now, happily, exists between 
the two powers; the writer says happily, 
because any approximation to France, 
by way of peace, while a ruler sa inve- 
terately hateful of every thing English, di- 


1 


152 


rects her helm, would only strike the death¬ 
blow of England. * 

S V ' I * 

# Extracts translated from a French pamphlet, 
(published at Paris, in 1757, and entituled u Motives 
for a peace with England, addressed to the French 
ministry, by an old sea-officer”) which from their re¬ 
markable similarity to supposed instructions, given by 
Talleyrand to Andreossy, when he was ambassador in 
London, may not be uninteresting. 

. “ We have taught England,” says he, t( to believe 
a real truth, that she cannot, strengthen herself too 
much by sea or land ; this is a revolution we never 
thought of, and may be fatal tons: for the longer 
we continue the war, the more their ancient spirit and 
courage will revive. They may not, for the present, 
become more wealthy, but they will get more wis¬ 
dom, which is better : this is not an unnatural suppo¬ 
sition, for they easily glide from one extreme to ano- - 
ther; and it is their natural temper, of which their 
whole history is a continued proof.” 

Again. “'The general weakness and supineness, at¬ 
tendant on immoderate wealth and luxury, hide from 
the English, the knowledge of their own strength, 
real power, and true interest. Suffer them not to re¬ 
lapse into virtue and understanding ; plunge them not 
too deep into difficulties; and they will never emerge 
from folly into wisdom.” 


153 


Under these circumstances, it would be 
the height oi imprudence "to negociate a 

i • ' * 

He concludes thus. u Give them peace, and they 
will soon return to their amusements of elections, 
party, and faction.” 

“ Give them peace, and the minister must be di¬ 
rected by popular clamour, which we can always ex¬ 
cite and encourage. 55 

“ Give them peace, and their navy will, once more, 
be laid up to rot ; and their seamen and artificers will, 
once more, be turned over to us. 5> 

• (t Give them peace, and the greatest part of their 
army will soon be reduced ; and the small remains will 
become a mere militia in pay.” 

“ Give them peace, and we shall not fear the de¬ 
fection of one or two of our present allies.” 

<( Give them peace, and they will never think of 
schemes for increasing their people ; or of making 
each part of their dominions of real use to every 
other.” 

{< Pursue this plan, steadily, for fifteen or twenty 
years, constantly directing the riches of France to rais¬ 
ing a navy, equal or superior to England, and then, and 


154 


peace: what did Buonaparte strive to effect 
during the last peace? and what, with his 
enmity to England (for England is the chief 
thorn that agonizes his side), what would 
he not attempt in a future peace? besides, 
the affectation of a pacific w ish, so fre¬ 
quently expressed by this dissembler, 
merely tends to shew his hypocrisy, and 
has, generally, been paraded, while he was 
aiming at a paramount influence over all 
his neighbours, and endeavouring to take 
successive advantages of their general 
weakness. Nothing then, the writer con¬ 
ceives, ought to be feared more than a 
precipitate, inglorious, and dishonourable 
treaty, which would compel England to 
acknowledge Buonaparte’s usurped empe¬ 
rorship, and give another proof of lamen¬ 
table debility. 

> * 

In peace England must keep up a w ? ar 


not till then, shall we be able to strike a blow, that we 
have been meditating For more than a century.” 


155 


\ 

establishment, for her vital safety; and, in 
war, she will be called on to do no more: 
but, independent of this consideration, war 
will exclude those shoals of Frenchmen, that 
in peace, would come "to England, for the 
sole purpose of increasing the dissatisfac¬ 
tion of the ill-disposed; corrupting the 
lukewarm; surveying our harbours; ob¬ 
taining lists ot our army and nary; and 
acquiring such other information, as might 

be useful to their Machiavelian employer. 

; - 

What peace, moreover, can be entered 
into that he will ^decline to violate ? or 
what ties can bind a man, who scorns all 
laws, both human and divine ? what else 
but a hollow truce, or rather the founda¬ 
tion of the present war, was the last peace? 
can Buonaparte forgive England, who has 
been the chief (but alas! a vain) obstacle 
to "all his projects ? can he so readily 
forget the ferocity of a tyger, as to clothe 
himself, at once, witli the habits of huma¬ 
nity? never—his countenance alone, if 


156 


there be any faith in physiognomy, dis¬ 
proves the supposition. During any and 
every peace, that he may grant us, (for it 
would be anomalous to say that England 
can bend him to her terms) his hypocrisy, 
malice, and intrigue will have only the freer 
scope and expansion to prepare, arrange, 

' and complete his deadly intentions to strike 
England, as an independent power, out of 
the mass of the universe. Unless France 
disband her armies, and place her fleets 
within our possession, what security can 
England hold against his future encroach¬ 
ment? is it likely, unless his wings shall 

be clipped and iiis claws extracted, that 

> # 

he, who violates neutral states and attacks 
the defenceless, who sacrifices every pa¬ 
triot that he can find, in every country 
overrun by his arms, and who could doom to 
death the Duke d'Engheim and the gal¬ 
lant Hofer, a subject even of his intended 
father-in-law, will exhibit any delicacy to¬ 
wards England, the only mound between 
him and universal supremacy? even 


1 57 

admitting, that the raging fury of his 
ambition should, miraculously, subside; will 
his armies, the founders of his power 
and the willing instruments of his ven¬ 
geance, so readily forget his former pro¬ 
mises of the spoil of England, and the al¬ 
lotted divisions of her territory, already 
enrolled by the French topographists? the 
conquest of England, however protracted, 
must be his eventual aim, and he must at¬ 
tempt it, by clandestine sap or open vio¬ 
lence, or like the Roman emperors and 
Turkish signiors, he may become a victim 
to his guards and janissaries. 

Negociations, therefore, with Buona¬ 
parte, would be a cabinet war, and al¬ 
liances would be nothing more than traps 
and treaties for future perjuries: in the 
present nature of things, it is impossible, 
that a sincere adjustment of differences 
can take place, while France shall pos¬ 
sess such an overwhelming preponder¬ 
ance. 


p 


158 


However desirable, then, peace may be, 
on the ground of humanity, it cannot be 
expedient to embrace it, w^hile England 
has so much to fear from the consequences 
of a negociation: even, if she should profit 
no more by the war than she has already 
done, (and in point of maritime superiority* 
England has not gained the worst of the 
war; although that advantage has been far, 
perhaps, from what the superiority of her 
fleets and her insular situation entitled her 
to receive) it is possible, that, by continu¬ 
ing it, under a different system of policy, 
she mav hereafter command those terms, 
which, now, she cannot expect, and more 
than ever convince her adversaries, that 
she can contend, and continue to contend, 
.single-handed, against all their united ener¬ 
gies. 

Perhaps too, during the practice of a 
different system, something might be ex¬ 
pected from the contingencies of the fu¬ 
ture. The empire of force is, always, flue- 


159 


tuating; and empires, stretched out to a 
disproportioned extent, in time, lose their 
spring and force, and contain, in them¬ 
selves, the principle of dissolution: like 
the wall, which extending from the per¬ 
pendicular, naturally falls by its own 
weight, so increased conquests serve but to 
overtop their base, and to accelerate the 
downfall of empires. The history of almost 
all nations can tell us this; and the annals 
of France prove that she has been re¬ 
markably subject to violent fluctuations. / 

. /' 

She was first conquered by Julius 
Caesar; in the filth century she becKuie a 
prey to the Vandals; she was the'n in¬ 
vaded by the Visigoths; then by Clovis ; 
then by the Danes; and finally by the 
English: after whose expulsion, she re¬ 
gained her strength, and has ever since 
been, gradually, trending to her present 
consequence. 

But, although elevated to the zenith of 

P 2 


160 

\ 

*1 

human grandeur, yet, the magnificence of 
her rays creates more horror than it dif¬ 
fuses radiance : it is an unnatural glare, 
incompatible with long existence, and 
the immense orb cannot, always, remain at 
full. 

In accumulating powers upon powers, 
as France has done, she has, undoubtedly, 
committed an evident, great, and fatal 
error, that of attempting to ground her 
own prosperity on the ruin of her neigh¬ 
bours : she has followed the glittering 
phantom of conquest and glory, until she 
has identified herself with slavery, as well 
as inflicted it on her hapless victims. 
Such h/as been the constant effect of great re¬ 
volutions; conquered states have increased 
the conquering state ; but what will be the 
gain of the latter, if, in proportion to its 
increase, it must the more infallibly and 
more speedily perish ? history exemplifies 
this consequence at every step, and philo¬ 
sophy may, easily, find its cause in the ori- 


161 


gin of usurped power; in the hatred ex¬ 
cited by violence; in the envy raised by 
successes; and in the discordance between 
the different parts, that, involuntarily, 
form a vast empire, or in its own internal 
vices : in vain, under such circumstances, 
universal monarchy may try to re-produce 
itself: the very attempt would argue a 
want of due solidity, and provoke de¬ 
struction. 

On this ground, some hope may be en¬ 
tertained, that, by contenting ourselves for 
the present, in vindicating and preserving 
our own rights, and waiting, patiently, for 
opportunities, as they may occur, of really 
aiding our neighbours in the recovery of 
theirs, many, now in existence, will witness 
the reduction of the power of France to 
its proper standard; for her absolute de¬ 
struction would only augment some other 
power, and let loose another tyrant u per 
laceras equitare gentes. ’ 

v 3 


1 62 


How soon such opportunities may oc¬ 
cur, is, at present doubtful: every day, 
however, displays a new territorial acces¬ 
sion on the part of France; and each ac¬ 
cession serves only to weaken her real 
strength, and to diminish the basis, which 
gives stability to her overloaded system. 

England, on the contrary, may expect a 
longer duration, because an insular,situa¬ 
tion generates commerce; and commerce 
becomes the natural origin of a naval 
power: this naval power acquires and ce¬ 
ments foreign possessions to the mother 
country, which enriches and grows rich, by 
the intercourse between herself and her 
colonies. Crete, which is not a twentieth 
part so large as Great Britain, and the an- 
tient Tyrians, who, after their old city on 
the coast ot Phamicia had been destroyed 
by Nebuchadnezar, retired to a small 
island, not three miles in compass, off the 
same coast, are memorable instances of 


163 


what may be effected by commerce and 
superiority at sea: the former retaining 
her liberty and the command of the sea, 
for more than thirteen hundred years, 
and the latter, although it was taken by 
Alexander the Great, after a seven months 
siege, and sustained a much longer one by 
one of his successors, continuing to make 
a figure, until the close of the thirteenth 
century, when it became subject to the 
Turkish dominion. 

These circumstances prove, that indus- 
trv, commerce, and naval power, are the 
natural pillars of a lasting, equal, and tem¬ 
perate government; and may, well, justify 
the remark, that no nation, on earth, can be 
so proper an instrument in reducing the 
power of France as England: who has 
strength enough to repress every enemy; 
power enough to avenge any wrong that 
may be offered her; and wants only suffi¬ 
cient resolution to do justice to herself. 


164 


But, to return from this long digression— 
with respect to the danger to be appre¬ 
hended from French prowess exerted in a 
French invasion, # to which a continuance 


* The writer cannot prevent himself from inserting, 
here, an anecdote of Sir Thomas Hussey Aprece, Bart, 
(a lineal descendant from Cadw'allader, last king of 
the Brittaines) which is by no means so generally 
known, as it deserves to be, and is very appropriate to 
the subject of invasion. 

During the American war, when only Mr. Aprece, 
and a captain in the Huntingdonshire militia, then 
under the command of the Duke of Manchester, he 
was stationed at Alnwick, in Northumbeiland, with 
two companies of the same regiment, consisting of 1C4 
men. 

Unexpectedly, Paul Jones appeared off Alnemouth, 
(which is not far from Alnwick) with two frigates, 
from w hich he would have disembarked 500 men to 
ravage the country, had he not found himself frus¬ 
trated in his intention, by the gallantry of Captain 
Aprece, and his little band, who, a/one y (for there were 
no other troops nearer than twenty mile^) instantly 
marched to the point threatened, determined to repel 
the desperadoes, or die in the attempt. 


165 


of war would render us liable, there can 
be no doubt, that the eventual result 
would leave no man to go back and tell the 
talc,* indeed, it is almost to be desired, that 
France would make the experiment, and 

Their noble intrepidity had the desired effect, and 
Paul Jones, after a severe, but unsuccessful, engage¬ 
ment, of two hours continuance, with an English fri¬ 
gate, under the command of Captain (now Sir) 
Charles Lockhart Ross, (Bart.) and menacing inva¬ 
sion a second time, in which he was again opposed 
with the same fortitude as before, was compelled to 
abandon his predatory designs and to quit that part of 
the coast. 

In the interval between the two attempts to land. 
Captain Aprece, desirous of preventing a disembark¬ 
ation at any other spot, exerted his influence in the 
neighbourhood, not merely in tranquillizing the minds 
of its inhabitants, but in raising and embodying, at his 
own expeace, 300 hardy peasants. A noble example 
this for imitation, in case of a French invasion ; and an 
irrefragable proof of what maybe effected by English 
intrepidity, on our own shores ! 

Lord Bantry’s gallant resistance in Bantry, and that 
also at Haverford West, are additional instances of the 
imposing effect of a determined appearance, on such 
occasions. 


166 


that England would believe its possibility, 
for the latter would call forth the energies 
of Britain, and the former would set the 
question of a second trial, completely, at 
rest: great as the power of France is, it 
must be yet greater, and effeminate islan¬ 
ders, as we have been represented by the 
gasconading Frenchmen, we must become 
still more effeminate than we are, ere 
France may, rationally, expect to conquer 
England. 

French prowess has, undoubtedly, done 
much, but, opposed to Englishmen, it 
has done nothing; for, in many in¬ 
stances, the old adage, however hyperbo¬ 
lical, that one Englishman can beat three 
Frenchmen, has literally been realized, not 
only by our gallant sailors, but our sol¬ 
diers too : which latter, it is to be lamented, 
have exhibited their characteristic bravery 
in useless feats, and wasted their life¬ 
blood, that should have been spared tor 
defensive exertions, in foreign lands, where 


167 


they have, actually, combated without aim, 
end, or any acquirement, except barren 
fame. 

Nature herself dictates the mode of 
warfare necessary to be pursued by Eng¬ 
land; and her advice loses no weight by 
the contrast, in numerical force, between 
her and her adversaries : fifteen millions, 
opposed to more than five times their 
number, may defend their own shores 
against foreign assailment, but never must 
dare to hope, that their adversaries will be 
subdued by continental attacks. 

t • r ’ r • * - • t . 

In what way has England rendered 

herself ridiculous in the eyes of the world? 

* 

certainly not by a want of power, (for she 
is feeble only in numbers and a misguided 
policy) but b} 7 not exerting that power, in 
the best possible way, or rather affecting 
to shew it in a way, that did not belong to 
her. When she attempted what it was 
neither generous for her, as an independent 


168 


nation, nor advantageous for her, as a 
maritime power, to attempt, she, deservedly, 
failed; and, at the same time, she, naturally 
ceased to be formidable, where she might 
have been looked up to and respected by all 
parties : but alas ! although “ media inse- 
parabilis unda,” where nature has esta¬ 
blished her a perpetual sovereign, and 
fixed her, like a rock, which nothing but 
an internal shock can prostrate, she pre- 
ferred making a parade on the Continent, 
where nature has given her neither lot nor 
inheritance. 

. „ • * 

England is, and should, so, consider her¬ 
self, a maritime and commercial power 
only; and, were the national means ap¬ 
plied and kept sacred for the preservation 
of her navy, and the firm establishment of 
her commerce, the end and intention of 
the war would be, purely, English: but the 
war, as at present conducted, is a com¬ 
plete hyperbole or extravaganza; it is re¬ 
plete with exaggerated anticipations, but 


169 


is totally destitute of available objects ; it 
is an incongruous compound of gigantic 
ideas and Lilliputian performance; and 
exhibits an injurious policy, labouring 
against the current of sense and nature, in 
mad-headed, desperate, and ruinous exer¬ 
tions: to continue it, thus , would resemble 
an ideot, who expects to retain water in an 
open sieve, which, however plentifully he 
may supply the current, he can never fill ; 
it is a war, in short, in which the more vi¬ 
gorous and assailingly active our efforts 
may be, the more they \yll tend to waste 

our strength in vain, and precipitate destruc¬ 
tion—for, where is the present chance of 
success against the common enemy, which 
might compensate for acting in defiance of 
our better judgment? the possibility of 
offensive war is wholly confined to the last 
portion of the Continent, and may involve 
no other object than the loss of our last al¬ 
lies, the sacrifice of our soldiers, and the 
squandering of our treasures. 


Q 


170 


By prudential circumspection, alone, can 
England raise herself to her wonted height: 

to 

but, while a dissoluteness of manners, a 
vaccillation* fa councils, and party dissen¬ 
sions shall agitate her bosom, what can 
she expect but ill-success? all that na¬ 
tional bravery is capable of achieving, by 
English gallantry, under an incompetency 

* The propriety of this expression may not be 
doubted, when the reader is informed, that there have 
been no less than fifteen changes of administration 
from the year 1760 , (when the British empire was at 
its zenith) to the present period, five of which have 
taken place since Mr. Pittas resignation in 1800* 
While such perpetual vaccillation shall be permitted 
to impede the machinery of government, whose move¬ 
ments may be stopped at any time, by cabal or in* 
Irigues, how can we dare to hope for a rescue from a 
perilous state ? and, while he, who is in place to-day, 
und frames measures of political expediency, is ousted, 
to-morrow, by another, who, from pride perhaps, or a 
contempt for his adversary, disannuls his proceedings, 
we may devise schemes to eternity 5 but where can 
rest the identity, unanimity, and vigour, requisite to 
carry them into effect ? surely not in a system which, 
like the shifting sand of the desert, is for ever vary* 
ing !!! “ Gutta cavat lapidem, non vi, sed s«pe ca* 

dcnde. ,> 


171 


©f numbers, may, naturally, be expected, In 
every collision between France and En^- 
land; but national bravery is not the whole 
of what is called for from England : there 
is a moral bravery, which she has yet to 
learn; a courage, which consists more in 
the activity of self-defence* than in the 
daring rashness of impolitic attack; a cou¬ 
rage nerved by virtue and directed by una¬ 
nimity, without which every exertion must, 
eventually, fail. 

At all events, although no promising 
objects remain for war, national safety 
might be acquired by national honour, and 
an undaunted appearance, which would 
prove to France, that we neither fear her 
power, court her alliance, nor think of sub¬ 
mission : such a policy as this, boldly 
commenced and resolutely pursued, would 
confirm all our friends and restrain all 
our enemies, more than a thousand expe~ 


* 


* c< Ferire vitalia ac tueri sciat.” 

Q, 2 


ditions; independent of the chance before al¬ 
luded to, to the realization of which nothing 
would conduce so much,, as the protraction 
of a purely defensive contest. No other 
mode, so well calculated to produce our 
final salvation,, can be adduced: while 
Buonaparte fosters such high pretensions, 
as he does at present, and stands on so 
exalted an eminence, unchecked and un¬ 
bridled, how can we trust to his stipula¬ 
tions for reparation, or our own security; 
particularly if we should court peace, 
which would argue a dislike to continue 
the war, and incline him to shew the less 
regard to these stipulations ? in fact, Eng¬ 
land, having completely failed in obtaining, 
by violent means, a reparation for the 
past, is not in a state to acquire it, even by 
fair means, much less by violent means, 
for the time to come. 

A condition of peace and tranquillity 
would, without doubt, prove an invaluable 
blessingbut—can a nation be said to pos- 


/ 


* 

17 S 

sess a state of peace, that is, every year, at 
the expense of a state of war? and must keep 
up an army and expensive squadrons, con¬ 
stantly equipped^ to guard its coasts from 
an invidious foe, who would invade it, when 
least expected, even in the midst of peace ? 

The aggrandizement of France, there¬ 
fore, instead of intimidating and forcing us 
to sue for peace, should add new vigour to- 
our councils, and more dispatch’ in their 
execution: the expences, necessary to carry 
on a defensive war,* (the only one we can 

* The following excellent plan, (which, to use a 
vulgar phrase, is English all over) for raising a defensive 
army in England, to the amount of two hundred thou¬ 
sand strong, was submitted to Mr. Pitt, in the month 
of December, 1794, by the before-mentioned Sir Tho¬ 
mas Hussey Aprece, Bart, (as verified by a letter 
from Mr. Pitt, bearing date the iath of December in 
the same year to Sir Thomas). The proof of the 
merit of this plan consists in its having been partially 
adopted by that great statesman, and the country, 
certainly, stands highly indebted to Sir Thomas, for 
his public-spirited suggestion. 

q 3 


'v 




pursue without destruction) would not ex¬ 
ceed those of a peace with France, which 

“ Take six men in every parish in England and 
Wales; let the men be learnt to dress, shoulder, 
march, face to the right and left, prime, load, present,. 
fire, fix bayonets, and advance. 

“ The six men shall attend the house of the head 
gentleman in the parish, once in a week on a Sunday 
evening, and for no longer.time than one hour and. 
a half. 

The men shall, then, receive for their'attendance 
one shilling per man, the money to be given as a free 
gift, by the gentleman or gentlemen of the parish. 

41 The expense of the six men for their weekly atten¬ 
dance; at one shilling per'man, will amount to 15/. 1 Zs. 
per year, and, if the gentleman or gentlemen of the.' 
parish go to the expence of clothing,the men, it will 
be 15/. more* 

<* The whole expense for six men, in their attendance 
and clothing will, consequently, amount to 30/. 12s. per 
year ; but, if the men should be clothed only once- 
every two years, the expence would not be more tharn 
23/. 2*. per year. 

1,4 England and Wales contain 52 counties, 29 cities-,, 


would be nothing else than a political 1 pur-- 
gatory between peace and war, and cos! 
the nation, coinmuni bus annis, as much as 
a state of absolute warfare. 

Since we are now engaged in it, at a vast 
expense, and are, amply, provided with tha 
means to carry it on, economically directed 
and in the way proposed, the honour and 


S00 towns, and more than 10,7S9 parishes ; the parishes 
alone, at six men to a parish, will produce a body'of 
64,734 men, and at no expence to government, except 
government should lend arms.. 

tl The proposed plan is only to act as an internal- 
defence, in case of an invasion ; and, in that case, lord- 
lieutenants will give notice to the gentlemen in their 
respective counties, to come forth with their men 
from the different parishes, to render them assistance. 

“ The 29 cities, the 800 towns, nor Scotland, are in* 
eluded in this calculation. 

“ Lord-lieutenants of counties to call a general meet¬ 
ing, in their respective counties, to take the sense of the 
nobility and gentlemen upon the proposition,’-’ 


176 


interest of the nation, alike, require, that it 
should be pursued, with unshaken resolu¬ 
tion, until, by the blessing of God, we can 
compel our foe to accede to a just and 
reasonable peace, that shall reduce him to 
a level with England, and restore the Con¬ 
tinent to its former independence. * 

* The writer is happy to find himself corroborated' 
in his Sentiments, by those of Earl Grey on this sub¬ 
ject, (Wednesday, May 13). 

\ 

il I doubt,” said his lordship, ** whether, at the pre¬ 
sent period, any proposition of peace would have any 
other effect than to induce the enemy to ascribe it to 
our fears and weakness.” 

And further, his lordship said, When we come* 
with the eyes of statesmen, to look at this subject, we 
must take into our serious consideration the charac¬ 
ters of those who govern ; and we cannot deny, that, 
triumphing as our enemy does over prostate Europe, 
and resisted as he is by the efforts of this country 
alone, his great remaining object must be to overcome 
and destroy us. To this end he must be prompted by 
the disappointments he has already experienced in 
such a hope, and by his unlimited and grasping ambi¬ 
tion, i his will, assuredly, be the grand aim of all 


177 


Taking it, therefore, for granted, that the 
piesent power of France is incompatible 
uith the repose of the world, and that the 
war is to be continued, or rather that the 
expences oi a war establishment must be 
incurred, it is, now, necessary to advert to 
the means of prosecuting the war, and to 
the remedies, of which the situation of Eng¬ 
land is susceptible. 

/ *1 y y " fT • 

liis foreign policy, whether in war or during peace; fo/ 
peace itself would be, with him, only a period of prepa¬ 
ration, for more effectually accomplishing his object.’* 

Some politicians speak of a suspended state, (nei¬ 
ther enjoying the repose and profit of a profound 
peace, nor partaking of the tumult and luxury of a de¬ 
clared war)- which, though it appear to be a medium, 
requires full as much wisdom to conduct with advan¬ 
tage at home andcred it abroad, as war itself. If such a 
case should be considered adviseable, it may, certainly, 
be admitted in an island, which lias the command of 
the sea, and concentres within herself the power of re 
sisting any force, .that may be brought against her shores; 
this state England might have embraced and conti¬ 
nued to preserve, during the whole of the French Re¬ 
volution; yet, how diametrically opposite have her po¬ 
litics been to such a system ! 


178 


It is an old saying, that “ wisdom and 
address may conquer even the decrees of 
fate.” Though England be subjected to pre¬ 
sent difficulties and dangers, yet her situ- 
ation is not desperate, and the ills of it, 
particularly in a financial point, may be 
retrieved, by an able management and welt 
digested economy. 

“ The propriety (said Mr* Huskisson), 
of devising every possible mode to reduce 
our expenditure cannot be disputed: 
sooner or later there must be a limit to 
taxation, (if taxation has not already at¬ 
tained its maximum) and, as the policy of 
this limit is rendered almost positive, by* 
the deadly hostility of France against our 
commerce, on which chiefly depends the 
state of our finances; and peace is rendered' 
problematical, both in event and ex pediency, 
our resources must not be calculated, 
merely for the present moment, but for a 
long and indeterminate period. By no other 
mode than the most watchful economy 


179 


can we secure the means of contending 
against Buonaparte, who has calculated 
on living thirty years, during which, there 
is too much reason to apprehend, that he 
will continue the inveterate and active foe 
of Great Britain.” 

Much to the credit of the people of 

England, they have never murmured at 

any expense, if necessary for their own 

protection, and when, frugally, applied to 

the general benefit of the community: 

the whole tenour of their history may be 

adduced in confirmation of this. It would 

neither, therefore, tend to create unanimity, 

so necessary under our present circum* 

stances, nor would it tend to increase our 

*■ 

strength, to think of any new or heavier 
taxes than they already endure, and have 
endured with unexampled patience: while 
so much ma,y be saved by economy, the 
abolition of sinecures, and the reduction of 
exorbitant salaries; in the management 
and collection of the public revenue; and 


130 


bv a reform in the whole mode and sys^ 
tem ol the war, there can be no necessity 
for imposing additional burthens on a gal¬ 
lant people.* 

All unnecessary places should be in¬ 
stantly suppressed; the salaries of all 
should be reduced to a moderate extent, 
that our public men may not be bribed 
to do their duty; strict enquiry should 
be made into the frauds, corruption, and 
abuses of the public offices, which are al¬ 
most as difficult perhaps to be cleansed, 

* It has been argued by many, “ that every new tax 
creates a new ability in the subject to bear it; and that 
each increase of political burthens increases propor- 
tionably the indusiry of the people.” This maxim, 
perhaps, kept within, certain bounds, has some foun¬ 
dation in reason and experience; but “ exorbitant 
taxes,” says David Hume, “ like extreme necessity, 
destroy industry by producing despair ; and, even be¬ 
fore they reach this pitch, they raise the wages of 
the labourer and manufacturer, and heighten the price 
of all commodities. An attentive disinterested legisla¬ 
ture,” he justly adds, “ will observe the point, when 
the emolument ceases, and the prejudice begins.” 


1st 

. I 

but still require it as much as the- Augasaii 
stables. 

Economy is the life-blood of our future 
existence, and the whole kingdom, anx¬ 
iously, looks for the strictest frugality, 
and good management, in all the branches 
of our government. There should be no la- 
vishment nor embezzlement permitted, nor 
any enrichment of placemen and pension¬ 
ers, by the hardly-wrung earnings of useful 
industry. 

The public money should not pass 
through so many hands, to be in its passage 
filtrated down to one fifth part of the origi¬ 
nal mass: but, above all, the sink of the 
Continent should be avoided. Add all 
these possible savings together, and the 
amount would, amply, provide for all our 
exigencies. 

v ' * . 

In private life, every person whose ex¬ 
penditure or appearance is above his pro 


R 


182 


per station or circumstances, is, generally, 
considered a bad member of society ; but 
this is not all—one of two great evils must 
result from his, extravagance: he must 
either injure others, by contracting debts 
which he will be for ever unable to pay, 
or he must provide and acquire the means, 
by hurtful practices. This remark may 
be applied to a people or government; 
any degree of expense, beyond the justifia¬ 
ble means of supplying it, and the pruden¬ 
tial means of application, is immediately 
unjust in its nature; speedily becomes per¬ 
nicious in its consequences; and must be, 
finallv, fatal.* 

j l 

/ 

* The writer cannot better illustrate this subject 
than by an apt comparison, which he has lately met 
with. Whenever retrenchment is necessary to be 
thought of, how common is the language of false 
friends. u He has certainly Very fine estates, and in many 
of them he is grossly plundered by his stewards; but 
then—as his debts are enormous, these retrenchments 
would be a mere feather in the scale, which he, poor 
man! in th<? present weak state of his nerves, would 
magnify into some serious relief, and then the disap¬ 
pointment would make him ten ires worse: it is 


183 


The waste of public treasure requires 
constant remedy j prolusion is not vigour, 
noi will it enable us to rise superior to our 
enemies: but, economy, by reforming all 
useless expences, would excite confidence, 
create energy, and provide means.* But 

f ' / 

better to say nothing about the matter, but to keep 
him easy and tranquil as long as we can.” How dif¬ 
ferent from the manly advice of a true friend, who 
would say, 11 Look your dangers and difficulties 
boldly in the face} neglect no saving, however small, 
that is authorized by prudence, and at the same time, 
by a just regard to your own situation in life. When 
you come yourself to look into your affairs, fresh sources 
of economy and new modes of forming proper checks, 
will gradually open to your view. Your tenants, when 
they see you in earnest, will themselves come forward 
in your support and make common cause with you. 
Even in the day of greatest trial, by having steadily 
contemplated your danger, you will have acquired a 
firmness of mind, which will preserve you from those 
paroxysms of despair and frenzy, that naturally suc¬ 
ceed to a diseased languor, and that lead to utter de¬ 
struction.” 

A , ^ 

/ - ./ i 

* Indeed, unless the expenditure of the country be 
regulated by some permanent system and a controuU 
iflg power over all the departments of government, 

it 2 


still, however we may admit the necessity 
of economy, England should not be de¬ 
termined in her measures, entirely by su¬ 
pine and economical considerations, as, in 
such a case, the honour of the nation would 
never cease to be violated by foreign pow¬ 
ers j until, at length England might become 
an inglorious sacrifice to public parsimony, 
and be ruined by a too rigid adherence to 
those principles, which are now urged as 

calculated for the state of. war, from which there is so 
little prospect of being released, our greatest danger 
will arise.front the want of those absolutely essential ie- 
quisites to our domestic policy and future salvation,, 
While our resources are daily and hourly wasting in 
multifarious extravagancies, and every year, by apo¬ 
logies for taxation, financial experiments, and misap¬ 
plication of funds, which should be exclusively de¬ 
voted to other purposes, leaves us still less for the 
coming one, our enemy’s means of aggression are daily 
and hourly increasing ; in short, England lias reduced 
herself to the choice of two alternatives: economy 
and public credit, both at home and abroad, or a 
lavish expenditure and national ruin. With theformer 
she may be all that she ever has been ; with the latter 
shew»j£ sink in the scale of nations : can she hesitate* 
for one moment, which to prefer ? 


/ 


185 

i > ' • - - 

the chief means of her preservation. Al¬ 
though. no lukewarm measures; no vaccil- 
lating determinations; no pitiful expe¬ 
dients will effect her retreat from the perils 
that surround her, yet that retreat may be 
secured by combining prudence with cou¬ 
rage; activity with vigour; a just and 
discerning liberality with economical cau¬ 
tion; and a wisdom, that shall be ready 
to make the most of every honest occa 
sion, with the experience derived from past 
misfortunes. 

. ( ' 1 1 • '•s 

The next grand feature of our national; 
policy is a widely diffused and unrestrained; 
commerce. 

_ • 

The English commerce, as at present 
conducted, is no better than a game of 
chance, where the odds are against the 
player; or it may be compared to a ship * 
wandering about in a pathless ocean, with¬ 
out a compass, and solely dependent on 
the winds and tides to carry her into port,. 

V ^ \ 

R 3 


186 


As commerce spr ngs from mutual ne¬ 
cessities, nothing ought to be more uncon¬ 
trolled in its operations : but checked, as 
our commerce now is by licences and re¬ 
strictions, it is become no longer an active 
foreign trade, but a mere passive com¬ 
merce, which neither promotes ease nor 
affluence at home, nor power nor supe¬ 
riority abroad. 

r ^ v 

It has been very justly remarked, cc that 
the trade and commerce of a nation can, 
only, be said to flourish, in proportion to 
the situation of those states which sur¬ 
round it; and that its riches and commerce, 
in a great measure, depend on their riches 
and commerce : v but, when Europe is be¬ 
come the scene of barbarism, plunder, and 
carnage, and England has no regular issues 
to vent her commerce, but must turn 

9 • X • 

smuggler to get rid of her superfluities, it 
never can be, seriously, desired, that, in a 
country of which trade is the chief sup¬ 
port, but where the spirit of adventure, 


137 


which should animate every branch of real 
business, is clogged with discouragement, 
and whose relative situation with other 
states is so very different, in every point 
from what it used to be, her commerce 
has, already, languished and may, soon, die 
an unnatural death. 

“ Commerce claims liberty, instead of 
those penal laws, duties, and interdictions, 
by which it is discouraged,” says the Mar¬ 
quis of Belioni, “ and asks nothing of the 
public but good judges, the discourage¬ 
ment ot monopoly, and an equal protec¬ 
tion to all the subjects.” # 

/ 

* Nothing ought to appear more uncontrolled or 
can be more permanent than the principles of com¬ 
merce ; and nothing ought to be so independent of the 
interference of statesmen, because they are self-evident, 
and arise from mutual necessities, which cannot be 
mistaken. Unshackled by legislative dictata, they 
promote ease and affluence at home, as wdl as power 
and superiority abroad; but repressed and fettered 
they cramp industry ; contradict the laws of nature ; 
(laws certainly antecedent lo all others) and weaken 


188 


The advantage of an insular situation, 
the superiority of her navy, the wealth of 
her colonies, anrl her liberty and civiliza¬ 
tion, for ever mark England as a rival to 
France, in point of commerce: commerce 
next to economy, is her mainstay, or sheet- 
anchor, which no existing animosities, no 
future connection witn France must allow 
her to neglect, for a single moment. 

To commerce England is indebted for 
her original elevation: to commerce she 

O * 

must look for future existence; to com¬ 
merce she owes her naval supremacy, her 
• colonial acquirements, and her present 
strength; to commerce she must have re¬ 
course for 7 the chief remedy of her past 
embarrassments. If the original sources 
of that commerce are no longer perennial; 
if, by the malice or policy of France, the 
continental spring can be no longer re¬ 
sorted to; what else remains but to give 

'the bonds of society, which cannot subsist without a. 
' reciprocity of mutual exchanges and good offices. 


\ 


189 


her trade another developement and to 
seek other springs, however distant? many, 
happily, are the regions, that open to her 
view, exclusive of the Continent, whereby 
a foundation might be laid for advancing 
her prosperity to an almost indefinite 
extent; to a point, at least, which would 
enable her to bid defiance to the restric¬ 
tive edicts, by which the enemy has at¬ 
tempted to check her wealth and power. 


And first, the advantage of a regular and 
settled commerce, and fixed good under¬ 
standing with New Spain is very appa¬ 
rent; and to this England should turn 
her instant attention, as the day-spring of 
renewed hope, and a principal source of 
her future welfare. 

The greater part of South America, and 
particularly Chili, is a perfect paradise, 
producing a hundred fold, almost without 
the necessity of labour. Providence has 
made it a very Eden, in all but its inhabi- 


190 


tants, whom the late revolution, perhaps, 
may invite to the exercise of energy, a 
sense of their own interests, and to the 
creation of a formidable and independent 
empire, stretching over the richest pro¬ 
vinces and immeasurable domains, beyond 
the reach of a Buonaparte. Can it be pre¬ 
sumed, that the founders of this empire will 
not be disposed to grant every possible 
favour in the way of trade, to those who 
have acted so generous and noble a part 
to the mother country r A trade with South 
America, is one that Buonaparte has nei¬ 
ther the means nor power to controul: sup¬ 
posing then England to be forever ex¬ 
cluded from all trade with France and the 
European Continent, but to enjoy an un¬ 
fettered mercantile intercourse with -Spa¬ 
nish America, and the rest of the world, 
she would be more than remunerated for 
the deprivation. 

At all events a fabric of splendid ex¬ 
pectation has reared itself by this revolu- 

\ 


I 


? 


191 


tion, almost as it were for England's pros¬ 
perity. A liberal and expanded policy on 
her part, may convert that fabric into a 
solid attainment and a durable structures 
and, for the services rendered to Old Spain, 
she might, with propriety, demand a com¬ 
mercial treaty, the first article of which 
should level every barrier, that has, hither¬ 
to, repressed the permeating and excursive 
spirit of English adventure* 

The East Indies, too, should be thrown 
open to every merchant, and not merely 
to the cupidity of monopolists, or a char¬ 
tered directory. The West Indies should 
be rendered, also, more pervious to the in¬ 
troductions and ramifications of commerce. 
The United States should not be stooped 
to, but, certainly, should be conciliated by 
every possible mode, consistent with our 
Own honour, notwithstanding her late at- 
tempt, by the non-intercourse act, to found 
her own prosperity on our ruin. # 

* It was very justly remarked by Mr. Pinkney, a 
few months since, at a public dinner:—•“ An Arne- 




192 


Thus, new vents will be formed for ah 

over-glutted market, and France, who has 

' ' > 

rican minister has* in truth, no merit in anxiously de¬ 
siring cordial friendship with England, on terms con- 
sistent with the honour of his own country ; and allow 
me to rejoice, that there do exist, on both sides, the 
most powerful and obvious inducements to cultivate 
such friendship. We need not trouble ourselves to 
enquire, whether it be true, as some politicians have 
pretended, that interest is the only tie of sufficient 
strength to hold independent nations together, as 
friend?; for we are, fortunately, boitnd in amity by all 
sorts of ties, which, I fervently hope, we shall not; 
(even if it v/ere possible that we should be so dis¬ 
posed) be strong enough to break. No reflecting and 
impartial man can doubt, that the true interests of 
Great Britain and America are compatible in all cases; 
the same in most. A liberal and comprehensive view 
of these can lead to no other conclusion, than that 
they are calculated to cherish and invigorate each 
other: but a sense of this compatability and identity 
of interests, effectual as it ought to be in communi. 
eating a character of steady friendship to our relations, 
is not the only pledge of harmony between us ; for a 
thousand kindly influences, with which calculation 
has no concern, combine to form an auxiliary pledge; 
little inferior in strength, I should hope, far superior 
in moral beauty, I am sure; to the other.” 

; "7 J v. . 

The same gentleman afterwards remarked, at the an« 
niversary dinner of the Institution for the relief, of 


19 $ 


/ 


tried every expedient to ruin England; but 
hitherto in vain, and is now trying her last 
experiment against her commerce, will 
not only be, effectually, disappointed in the 
object of her restrictive decrees * but, per¬ 
haps, hereafter, may be forced, by neces- 
sity, to sue to England tor those luxuries 
and articles, to which the inhabitants of 
the Continent cannot be supposed to re¬ 
main for ever indifferent, although Buo- 
naparte would make us believe so. 

V . \ 

With respect to the East Indies, the pe¬ 
riod ot the renewal ot her charter will, 

foreigners. “ I hope that perpetual commercial amity 
between Great Britain and America, may become the 
general sentiment in both countries. Peace is for 
their mutual interest, and should be the sincere wish 
of their real friends j and I trust, that both nations will 
long continue to live in amity and generous emulation. 
America lias adopted many wise English institutions, 
from the proud example shewn her by England; no 
doubt, America will, still, be emulous to imitate that 
example, and (to use the phrase of a good man) to 
evince her filial piety, by adopting the virtues of her 
parent. v 

S 

V 1 ; 


speedily, arrive; when it will be tor go¬ 
vernment, certainly, to decide, how tar it 
may be adviseable to give her monopoly, 
so injurious to the country, and so devoid 
of benefit to herself, a longer duration: 
this much is certain, that nothing, in her 
affairs, has, lately , occurred to render the 
renewal a desirable event, either for Eng¬ 
land, the Company, or India. 

It has been argued, in favour of the re¬ 
newal, that a predilection exists in the minds 
of the East Indians, for the company that 
rules over them, and that a change of mas¬ 
ters w 7 ould' produce a separation from 
England; it has been further argued, that, 
were government to take the dominion, 
without purchasing the territory of India, 
the governors and"the governed would have 
no reciprocity of interests, and that the for¬ 
mer would become subject to all the ex¬ 
pence of supporting their powder, without 
gaining an iota of revenue, to maintain the 
necessary establishments. 


105 


To all this it may be replied, are the 
East Indians generally sensible, that it is 
a company of merchants, and not the Eng¬ 
lish government, which directs their desti¬ 
nies ? if they are not aware of any differ¬ 
ence between the two, or should they sup¬ 
pose the two to be so closely blended, as 
to form, in fact, but one and the same 
power, what possible difference can it 
make to them, which take the helm, the 
English merchants or the English minis¬ 
ters, since to either, while their governors, 
they must yield the same revenues and pay 
the same allegiance ? 

Although India is, already, such a dead 
weight on the neck of England, as to render 
her acquisition, territorially and politically, 
more a matter of speculation than of actual 
advantage to England, still, the purchase 
of her territory and the exclusive direc¬ 
tion of her affairs by government would 
be far preferable to the present system, 
under which the revenues of India are 

s £ 


M 


196 v v 

neither equal to her own support, nor do 
they add to the financial means of Eng¬ 
land : who actually lends money, where she 
should receive it (to enable the company 
to make their unnatural dividends) and 
burthens her own population with in¬ 
creased taxes, in order to preserve the pre¬ 
carious tenure of a company, which, sooner 
or later, must be dissolved. 

But, looking, as he cannot but look, to 
the late unpleasant circumstances in the 
Eastern clime, and the possibility of E lir 
recurrence, the writer feels, that he, here, 
treads on delicate ground, and, therefore, 
abandons the subject, not, because he con¬ 
ceives himself incapable of adducing new 
arguments, but, that his intentions and lan- 
guage may not be misconstrued: to monopo¬ 
ly alone, then, he w ill, now, confine himself. 

It is too common for traders of all na¬ 
tions, and for every community of every 
nation, to aim at a monopoly.of the trade 


19 7 


they deal in : but monopolies, to speak of 
them., in the most favourable sense, are 
combinations of selfishness, and, generally, 
prove, both in cause and effect, the great¬ 
est enemies to the energy of a state; be¬ 
cause the industry of its inhabitants is, ne¬ 
cessarily, confined, as to its benefits, within 
the hands of a few, who enrich themselves, 
and leave the remainder to go on as they can. 

The commodities, that one part of the 
world can offer to another, were never in¬ 
tended by Providence to pass through one 
particular routine, without deviation. The 
true end of commerce, is like a noble sheet 
of water, permitted to send forth its thou¬ 
sand meandering rills to fertilize and be¬ 
nefit the, earth ; but, if unnatural and sel¬ 
fish mounds are raised to confine the cur¬ 
rent in a single channel, where is the ge¬ 
neral benefit to the adjacent territory ? 
Deprived of activity by the inadequacy of 
its vent, and forced into inertness, the lake, 
soon, becomes a stagnant pool, and the 

& 3 


I \ ^ * 

% 

198 1 / - 

: . ' „ {* \ ' 

meadows, before enriched by its circling 
streams, become impoverished, and fade 
and languish: re-open, however, the ori¬ 
ginal channels for the escape of this water, 
and, like the pent-up fury of a restrained 
torrent, it will soon level every cramping 
mound; gradually diffuse its beneficial 
dominion; and produce verdure, where ste¬ 
rility prevailed. 

/ 

* / * i / \ 

Or commerce may be assimilated to 
a beautiful, but coy female, who is fond of 
general admiration; by gentle and proper 
methods she may be won, but cannot be 
forced, because she can, and, always, will, 
m^ike her escape from those, who attempt 
violence, and throw herself into the hands 
of those, who will be liberal: it was igno¬ 
rance, therefore, of true commerce, which 
created monopolies, and it is a perverse 
obstinacy, wilful in error, that endeavours 
* to perpetuate them. 

V. , 

. - • t »_ 

No country should be so free from mo- 


/ 


i 


4 


199 


nopolies and harsh restrictions, with respect 
to trade, as England : it is true the legisla¬ 
ture has a right to make trade contribute 
to the necessities of the state; but, when 
the system of British commerce is consi¬ 
dered, the whole of it, even in its severest 
restrictions, tends to self-preservation: 
what then might it be, if it were placed 
equally at liberty, as the country is free ? 

England, being free, is, evidently, entitled 
to a free trade, and should be at liberty to 
diffuse her commerce, in every available 
direction, and to employ her capital, in the 
best possible mode, for the advantage of 
her inhabitants and wealth of the state, 
without any restriction, in every part of 
the known world, except the Continent; 
where the uncivilized operation of her or¬ 
ders in council may be rendered, tempo¬ 
rarily, necessary, perhaps, in a political 
sense, by Buonaparte’s decrees, and may, 
eventually, bring him to his sober senses, 


200 




In evidence of the advantage, to be de¬ 
rived from a free trade, free as the soil 
from whence it emanates, it may be ob¬ 
served, that the revenue of a country re¬ 
ceives injury, whenever money is left use¬ 
less in the hands of industry, where it 
should, always, be in an active and produc¬ 
tive state. The capital of an individual may, 
upon an average, produce to him 10 percent, 
per annum, while the nation, at the same time, 
reaps an advantage, from the employment 
of that capital, equal to 50 per cent.: that is, 
a profit accrues, yearly, to the nation, by the 
active employment of a certain sum in 
trade, equal to one half of that sum; and, 
therefore, to draw money from such a ser¬ 
vice, or to deprive the individual of the 
stimulus to increase it, must be done, with 
the improvidence of a prodigal, or argue 
extreme inability in the financier. <c Pri¬ 
vate losses amount to a public one,” and, 
were statesmen to be impressed with the 
importance of this irrefragable truth, the 


\ 


QO 1 

S ' » 

immediate prosperity of their own coun¬ 
try would prove the leading star of all their 
actions. 

Besides, it has been, very truly, re- 
maiked, tnat an increase ol our commerce 
must tend to increase our sinking fund • 

# S3 A * 

butj as the increase ot the latter, at this 
moment, entirely, depends on the produce 
oi the taxes, and, as taxation is, generally, 
supposed to nave attained its maximum, 
if we continue to borrow money, without 
being able to discharge the interest, and, 
at the same time, provide means for in¬ 
creasing that fund, what augmentation of 
the fund can take place? Two material 
circumstances result from this considera¬ 
tion, if properly attended to: the former, 
that economy is, essentially, necessary to 
the preservation of our independence; and 
the latter, that commerce should be per¬ 
mitted to permeate through its-thousand 
channels, because, to its productive diffu¬ 
sion and increased sources, we are to look, 






202 


hereafter, for the chief support of the 
sinking fund, which, .allowing that taxa¬ 
tion cannot be increased, could never aid, 
in the reduction of the national debt, by 
any other mode. 

\ 

In reply to this, it may be argued, that 
it would be the height of injustice to found 
an increase of our sinking fund, by in¬ 
creased taxes, on every gradation or ascen¬ 
sion of commerce; which w ould prove a 
clog to mercantile exertion, and repress 
industry, at the very moment, when it 
should be most encouraged. But, in an¬ 
swer to this, the writer conceives, that, so 
far from additional taxes being necessary, 
at any future period, even the present ones 
may be, easily, reduced to a supportable 
form, by the pruning hand of financial de¬ 
termination ; which has nothing more to 
do than to lop the useless branches that 
weaken the -trunk, and to preserve and 
properly train those, that are vigorous 
and likely to produce good and pleasing 


203 


fruit, without exhausting the parent ground: 
the national debt would, thus, be, rapidly, 
reduced, and every year would add to our 
security and strength. 

Having, briefly, # considered what, cer¬ 
tainly, are the main points or buttresses of 
England’s safety, her finances and com¬ 
merce, the mind, naturally, turns to her 
sister isle, as the third point or buttress 
of her future destiny. 

Should partiality and prejudice ever 
subside; should Ireland be viewed in a 
just light, and made a proper and natural 
use of; should England grant her a free 
commerce, (both at home and abroad), and 
act, magnanimously, towards her, in other 
respects, she would not only triple her 
subjects there, and unite their hearts and 
hands in one common cause, but she 

f< Frustra fit per plura, quod fieri potest per pan- 
ciora.” 


204 


I 

would find, that the more she enlarges the 
commerce and promotes the agriculture 
and general amelioration of Ireland, both 

O 

in natural and moral points, the more she 
would increase her own powers, and add 
to her ow n energies, 

i 

An union of the two countries has, na¬ 
turally, given birth to an unity of interests, 
and it is, by no means, apparent, why a dif¬ 
ferent system should be pursued in each. 
If Ireland were but to receive her fair pro¬ 
portion of encouragement from the mother 
country, what might not be expected from 
her immense resources, which require only 
a constant warmth, to enable them to rise 
into perennial vigour? Every stimulus, 
possible, should be given to Ireland, not 
merely on the basis of common justice, 
but on that also of, hereafter, producing the 
most material benefit to England, perhaps 
her final salvation: and were this policy to 
be adopted, “the two countries might stand 
up, united, against an united world, and 


/ 


2 05 

defy every attempt, that could be made 
against them but, unfortunately, it has 
been the peculiar aim and undiminished 
characteristic of every administration, for 
many years past, to consult the exclusive 
advantage of England, alone, without re¬ 
garding the mischievous effect of the unjust 
preference; and* as was, energetically, re¬ 
marked in the House of Commons, during 
the last session, “ to sacrifice the branch 
to preserve the trunk of the tree.' 5 

At such a period as this, is it defensible, 
either *in point of justice or policy, to deny 
Ireland every rational participation in ad¬ 
vantages, that England now, exclusively, 
possesses ? the grand object being to con¬ 
solidate into one impervious phalanx, and 
firm body of dominion, every territory, that 
belongs to the British empire, there is 
every thing to lose, and nothing to gain, 
by withholding the stream of mutual ad¬ 
vantages. 



T 


206 


How great was the stroke, that France 
received, during Queen Anne’s reign, by 
the union of England and Scotland! how 
much greater and more decisive might be 
rendered the stroke of a perfect equaliza- 
tion and unanimity between England and 
Ireland ! now is the period to reward the 
services of a kingdom, which has permitted 
herself to be melted down to a dependent 
province! now is the time to unite every 
heart and every hand in the united king¬ 
dom:—for one common end, its final salva¬ 
tion—by extending the same privileges and 
advantages, alike, to each, without claim¬ 
ing a haughty superiority for the foun¬ 
tain head. In this would consist Eng- 

O 

land’s best “jus dominationisher “ ar¬ 
cana imperii.” 

The noble, always, act nobly by others; 
and, as there is infinitely more satisfaction 
to be derived, from awakening the sincerity 
of faithful esteem, by kind offices and gene- 



207 


rous attentions, than from eompellina* a 
sullen reluctant obedience, by harsh and re¬ 
pulsive conduct; it is to be hoped, that 
England will practise, what in private life 
is so generally infallible in pleasing result, 
an amiable demeanour, and conciliate 
the affections of all her dependencies. 
England can have no cause to reject such * 
a mode of practice, and she may, one day, 
have reason to rejoice, at her maternal im¬ 
partiality. 

Equal measures should be dealt out to 
all parties, and each (the writer now speaks 
of England and Ireland} should enjoy an 
unshackled appropriation of its staple 
commodity; without any other interference, 
on either side, than the most friendly in- 
tercourse and the commercial interchange 
of the respective manufactures, unclogaed 
by duties and unshackled by suspicion. 
The coin, also, and notes of each country, 
should possess the same relative value, 
in both countries, and an exchange. 


208 

\ ■ ■ - • . 

• • — £ 

at a discount, which is nothing more than 
an acknowledgment of inferiority, on the 
part of Ireland, should no longer subsist. 
Ireland, in her size only, and political de¬ 
gradation, is inferior to England: she 
mans her fleets ; she recruits her armies; 
she stands in the brunt of all her battles ; 
she supplies her w r ith labourers; sue clothes 
her inhabitants wdth linen; and sends her 
even the necessaries of life :, w here, then, is 
the mighty superiority of haughty England r* 

t m 

* Mr. Grattan, in his eloquent speech on Roman 
Catholic emancipation, describes Ireland, as a conn, 
try containing seventeen millions of acres, a rich soil, a 
temperate climatej great local advantages, and every 
blessing, that can be derived from a bountiful Provi¬ 
dence ; without any noxious or venomous production, 
to impair her physical advantages ! place her,” ener¬ 
getically said he, “ in a situation to avail herself of 
the bounty of Heaven, and to profit by her natural 
capabilities ! and soon, on the fulfilment of an en¬ 
lightened and liberal policy of England towards her, 
the stability and interest of England would be com, 
pieted.” 

The amelioration of tie state of Ireland, with r*-< 


209 


It has been, frequently, urged by 
those narrow-minded politicians, who view 
every thing Irish, through an unfavourable 
medium, that, from her conduct during 
the discontents, vhich distracted her bo-, 
som, a few years since, she merits little 

favour and conciliation from this country: 

/ 

but, allowing even the faults of the smaller 
number to have been faults, that deserved 
the severity of punishment, inflicted on 
them, ought not the fidelity, the loyalty of 


spect to tythes, and also with respect to what are 
termed middle men, to whom estates are let in the 
first instance, by the proprietors, and by whom they 
are sub-let to other tenants, would be a real advantage.. 

tt Ireland,” says Mr. Playfair, in his conclusion of 
the Irish peerage, “ is a country, to judge from what 
we have before us, that only requires the attention 
and encouragement of the great proprietors, in order 
to make it a most flourishing country. The people of 
Ireland, like all human beings, have faults: but they 
are kind-hearted, and, only, require to be used kindly,, 
and to be assisted in their endeavours to promote in¬ 
dustry in their country.” 

T 3 




210 


i 


the superior number, which joined so effec¬ 
tually to crush the revolt of their country¬ 
men, in all justice, pass, rather for the ra¬ 
tional spirit of the many, than the delusions 
or madness of a few? the violence of wrong¬ 
headed passion, inspired by the secret ene¬ 
mies of the constitution, a violence, too, that 
has been so amply atoned for, should not be, 
for ever,' remembered. Internal dissen¬ 
sions, more than foreign foes, have, at all 
times, proved injurious to England; and 
would it be right to provoke them now, 
now, when we contend for life and security ? 
“ A stfre in the leg," said Sir William Tem¬ 
ple, “ may affect the body, and, in time, 
grow as difficult to cure, as if it were in the 
head, especially, where humours abound.” 

To use the words of Mr. Grattan, 
“ Concord is salvationbut, alas! Eng¬ 
land, in dispensing her favours to her bet - 
ter half, has resembled the miser, who 
spends no money, but in a case of neces- 


/ 




/ 


sity; and, then, pays it, with so much reluc¬ 
tance, as to recal, almost, with one hand, 

what lie doles out with the other. 

f * 

“ Ireland is not a sucker, that drains 
the moisture from the parent root, 'without, 
increase or producing fruit; but, on the 
contrary, she is a thriving branch, and may 
be rendered as profitable as any, that the 
tree can boast: with that root, she must 
flourish and fade, or languish and die 
with that root her shamrock may become a 
vigorous evergreen, and centuries may pass, 
ere it may decay. The alternative rests in 
England alone, who should never forget, 
that “ Ireland's wealth is her wealth and 
that their mutual prosperity is so closely 
interwoven, that, like two bodies joined as 
twins by nature, art cannot effect a sepa¬ 
ration, without causing the death of both. 

, T > . . r 

The last point, to be adverted to in this 
chapter, on the subject of remedies, is the 
absence of gold. Many, of late, have taken. 


i 


212 ' 


great pains to prove, that an overflowing 
quantity of circulating paper is not calcu¬ 
lated to alarm the public: with equal 
propriety it might be argued, that the in¬ 
roads of the sea, after bursting the mounds 
which repressed them, are not injurious to 
the property of the inhabitants. 

Gold and silver, in Mr. Locke’s opi¬ 
nion, are the most solid and substantial 
part of the wealth of a nation ; and, to mul¬ 
tiply these metals, ought, he thinks, upon 
that account, to be the great object of its pai* 
litical economy. But no, say the arguers in 
favour of notes, why may not paper repre¬ 
sent the wealth of a nation, as well as gold 

/ 

and silver ? both paper and coin have rela¬ 
tive values; where exists, then, the cause 
of preference ? What other answer is ne¬ 
cessary to this question, than that paper 
money can, never, be so valuable as 
gold or silver, the former being only sym¬ 
bolical of money, and founded on a species 
of credit or a printed obligation ; whereas 


213 


gold and silver are an immediate satisfac¬ 
tion, without credit, to the person who re¬ 
ceives them ? With respect to the opinions 
of these arguers, in favour of paper, it may 
not, perhaps, be anomalous to say, that 
there may be (and there certainly is) a kind 
, of artifices, by which the state of a nation 
may be disguised' and its ruin a little pro¬ 
tracted: but, of these, Lord Bacon says 
truly, “ like strong cordials, they may help 
at a pang, but they increase, instead of 
eradicating, the disease.” 

v * A 

'The cause of the present scarcity of 
coin, and some of the consequences result¬ 
ing from its disappearance, have been al¬ 
ready noticed in the foregoing chapter: 

* but some of its effects remain to be spoken 
of: and these, the advocates for paper cir¬ 
culation are requested, either to disprove 
or find a remedy for. 

If, by a profusion of paper, there 


214 


has been a semblance of wealth, luxury 
and its attendant injury have increased, 
to an unexampled extent, and have been 
productive of manners, practices, and 
appearances, with which our ancestors, 
however luxurious, were, totally, unac¬ 
quainted. 

To feed this luxury, new modes of gra¬ 
tification have been resorted to; and, where 
coin could not effect the desired purpose, 
paper has been called in, to give birth to a 
fictitious credit, and enable speculation “ to 
overleap itself” by the vile system of ac¬ 
commodation bills. The writer has, from 
the best motives and his own actual expe¬ 
rience, endeavoured to prove* that thou¬ 
sands have been ruined, and that thousands 
must be ruined during; the continuance of 
.this fatal system; which sprung from the 

s 

* See “ Danmoniensis, on Banks,*'’ printed for Slier- 
wood and Co. 


215 


prolusion of paper, will be^continued by pa¬ 
per, and can be terminated, only, by the com¬ 
plete restoration of coin, as the chief me¬ 
dium ol circulation, in the mercantile world. 

- r \ 

If the welfare of the state be, at all, de¬ 
sirable; it the cupidity of the speculative 
and selfish ought to be repressed ; if the 
fabrication of notes upon notes should be 
considered the primary cause of our daily 
bankruptcies—our continual suicides—our 
crouded prisons—the ruin of innocent 
families-—the increase of poor-rates—and 
the enhanced expence of every article of 
life—then, it may be hoped, that the bul¬ 
lion committee will, speedily, decide, on the 
discontinuance of the restriction on the 

i 

bank, and satisfy the public, after all our 
financial schemes and wasteful extrava¬ 
gancies, our continental subsidizations and 
multifarious disappointments, that gold 
can resume its usual dominion. 

Such a proof of the strength of Eng- 


21 6 


land would give the lie direct, to all those* 
who might think her weak; would ani¬ 
mate the loyal; drive the seditious to de¬ 
spair ; and render the event of the present 

contest no longer doubtful.* 

% ■ 

* The passages, allusive to the bullion committee, 
were written, long antecedent to the publication of 
their late report. The writer fervently hopes, for 
the welfare of his country, that their recommenda¬ 
tions will be attended to. 


217 


CHAP, V. 


The true reform, of which England is 

susceptible. 

IF we consider the present circum¬ 
stances of this nation, or the present state 
of the affairs of Europe, there never was 
a time, when there existed a greater neces- 
sity for testifying, in the most public man¬ 
ner, a perfect unanimity, among ourselves; 
not merely an unanimity in attachment to 
the king, the laws, and the constitution, but 
an unanimity in virtue, in the repression of 
luxury, and a manly devotedness to the 
ennobling and soul-inspiring cause of our 
still happy country. 



Xf 



Unfortunately engaged in a war, against 
the most powerful and absolute monarchy 
in the world ; in a war, not founded solely 
on ridiculous piques or petty resentments; 
but in a wai% which has no other end in 
view than our very existence, what can tend 
so effectually to guard against the threat¬ 
ening dangers as a perfect unanimity, and 
an immediate rectification of the conse¬ 
quences of our past measures, which would, 
soon, lead the way to prospective security ? 

Whatever tends to inflame and divide is 
dangerous; and it is in vain to imagine, 
that our religion and liberties, our trade, 
colonies, and naval dominion, can be se¬ 
cured, unless we apply remedies to our in¬ 
testine mischiefs. Innumerable instances 
might be adduced to prove, that a country 
may be ruined, by internal disorder, upon 
which no foreign force can make any im¬ 
pression ; and that extremities, affronts 
and personal injuries, may create such a 


\ . 


I 

' 219 

hatred, between the varying parties, by their 
perpetual collisions, as to render each in¬ 
different to the fate of the country, and, 
finally, to subvert the constitution. 

To suppress faction in a country, where . 
most of the great men, for many years past, 
have known no other road to honour and 
preferments; and to reconcile parties, which 
consider it for their mutual interest to 
remain divided, is, undoubtedly, difficult,' 
but it is not beyond the reach of human 
wisdom. 

Unanimity, among ourselves, reverence 
and affection to the be$t of princes, and an 
orderly, faithful, and conscientious dis¬ 
charge of the duties of our several stations, 
offices, and relations in lite, may effect this 
desirable purpose; and can, alone, secure us 
against the consequences of disaster, per¬ 
sonal integrity being the natural basis of 
national tranquillity. 

u2 . . 


i 


220 


When the manners of the nation shall be 
founded on solid principles and directed 
to the promotion of the common weal; 
when an invariable regard to merit, and a 
genuine public spirit, shall form the cha¬ 
racteristics of the people, both in public 
and private transactions; when industry 
shall be made the sole basis of wealth, and 
service done to the state shall be consi¬ 
dered the only road to riches and honour; 
when the public income shall be, solely, re¬ 
gulated by the public interest; when a so¬ 
ber frugality, both in individuals and the 
state, shall be secretly as well as openly 
practised; and w^hen corruption, pursued 
through its thousand forms and shapes, 
like Proteus, can no longer disguise itself, 
but must submit to the dominion of vir¬ 
tue, then, may we expect to see England 
peaceable and powerful at home, respected 
and beloved abroad, and safe from every 
internal and external danger. 


221 


It is generally allowed, that the only 
rational and solid method of improving 

i 

and exalting a nation, is to give it true no¬ 
tions of its own interests, and thereby en¬ 
gage it to pursue those interests with una¬ 
nimity and vigour; the beneficial conse¬ 
quences of which impressions would be 
productive of a desire, in all, to cultivate 
the advantages of their country, to the very 
utmost, and would create a perfect con- 

i 

viction of the necessity of submission, for 
their own sakes and the general welfare of 
society, to the established laws ot the 
constitution, and the measures of govern¬ 
ment. 

* . 

* _ 

Such impressions as these would also 

prompt the rulers to-enforce the laws, not 
only by a strict execution, but by their 
own example; ambition, thus, would not be 
extinguished, but it would rise superior to 

C? 7 L 

all seliish views; and men of active spi- 
* rits, instead of aiming at ^making them¬ 
selves, falsely , great, in a declining and im- 


222 

poverished country, would exert their ener¬ 
gies in benefiting that country, by all pos¬ 
sible means, and become, actually , great 
by consequence, rather than choice. 

Materials, to effect even this high- 
wrought expectation, are not wanting, and 
many are the great, the wise, and the good 
men in this country, who, with suitable in¬ 
clinations and splendid talents, can realize 
it, in its fullest extent, without plunging 
into speculative experiments or sounding 
the depths of an unfathomable reform; 
who, it is, justly, to be expected, will incul¬ 
cate a reverence for religion, for law, and for 
order, both by precept and example, and 
maintain real freedom, both in themselves 
and their fellow-subjects; who, spurning at 
the false principles and false lights of mo¬ 
dern innovators and frantic disturbers,* 

* Goldsmith, in his Vicar of Wakefield, ridicules 
these, in a vein of admirable irony. 

M t am for liberty, that attribute of gods! glorious 


223 


will teach the moral necessity of an adhe¬ 
rence to practical virtues, in preference to 
arguments on abstract rights, and convince 
their misguided countrymen, that an unde- 
finable constitutional reform would only 

liberty ! that theme of modern declamation. I would 
have all men kings : I would be a king myself. We 
have all, naturally, an equal right to the throne: we 
were all, originally, equal. This is my opinion, and 
was, once, the opinion of that of honest men, called Le¬ 
vellers. They tried to erect themselves into a com¬ 
munity, where all should be free. But alas ! it would 
never answer; for there were some among them 
stronger, and some more cunning than others, and 
these became masters of the rest; for, as sure as your 
groom rides your horses, because he is a cunninger 
animal than they, so surely will the animal, that is 
cunninger or stronger than he, sit upon his shoulders.” 
After expatiating on the preference, that should be 
given to monarchy, he concludes thus: “ The sounds 
of liberty, patriotism, and Britons, have, already, done 
much ; it is to be hoped, that the true sonsof freedom 
will prevent their ever doing more. I have known 
many of those bold champions for liberty, in my time, 
yet do I not remember one, that was not, in his heart 
and family, a tyrant.” The passage, from whence 
these extracts are made is in the 19th chapter, and 
strongly recommends itself to the political reader. 


224 


pave the way to an absolute monarchy, or 
a wild democracy, in either of which fatal 
extremities our glorious constitution would 
be, for ever, dissolved !!! 

Wretched, most wretched, would be 
the state of England, if she could not boast 
of such men as these! for alas ! although 
bending under an accumulating load of 
debt, and involved in a war, which has 
been ruinous in its past effects, and is in¬ 
terminable in prospect; although the 
complaints of poverty and heavy taxes, the 
decay of commerce, and the occurrence of 

failure upon failure, assail our ears, in every 

/ 

direction; yet, do we sink more and more 
into luxury, indulge in all the pleasures of 
imagined safety and anticipatory tri¬ 
umphs, and, idly, waste our life-blood and 
remaining strength, in futile attempts and 

^ 1 > * i 

vain speculations. 

»i i 

Public and private virtue, combined 
with the remedies spoken of, in the last 


225 

chapter, would, indubitably, relieve us 
from these domineering evils; for the 
hearts, that fear not their own reproach 
may lay claim to intrepidity; and courage, 
founded on the consciousness of integrity, 
might bid defiance to the attacks of Buo¬ 
naparte: indeed, so true an axiom is 
this, that no good man was ever found to 
be a coward, and no courageous man, up¬ 
held by self-approving principles, was ever 
seen tremble at any foe, however mighty. 
Buonaparte, then, may hurl his threats, 
like thunderbolts, at the head of England, 
but, if she has that within her, which courts 
inspection, and that is moral improvement, 
those bolts will, most assuredly, be launch¬ 
ed in vain. 

But, let the writer enquire, will this 
moral improvement, so essentially requi¬ 
site at the present momentous era, be ef¬ 
fected by Englishmen sighing for imagi¬ 
nary good, and despising the inestimable 
advantages they already possess ? or by 


226 


their rashly venturing on unknown tracts, - 
to search for objects that have been, wisely, 
placed beyond their reach? 

Rational liberty and well-defined and 
orderly arrangements, in civil society, are 
the best sources of real happiness. The 
eccentric aberrations of a comet may asto¬ 
nish and surprise ; but, do they illuminate 
the atmosphere and render the advantages 
of the rotatory planets, which travel 
round their fixed tracts, with unerring 
order, and become a fit lesson to change¬ 
ful and inconsistent mortality? the fiery 
coruscations of a meteor, however bril- 

i 

liant for the period of their endurance, 
may, too, astonish the natives of the village, 
over which they pass ; but, do they warm, 
invigorate, and enliven the creation ? even 
the beautiful diversifications of the Aurora 
borealis are not perennial; they gleam but 
for a time, and, then, leave the at¬ 
mosphere, in a state of horrible darkness : 
But, do such circumstances attend on the 


227 


fixed planets? the effusive rays of the 
sun will for ever shine ! the moon will al- 
ways give her secondary light! the stars 
will yield their inferior beams, as they have, 
already, done, to the end of eternity! and 
of all these no artificial substances can 
supply the settled purposes! 

These observations may be extended 
and applied to all those fitful changes, 
which modern reformation may desire to 
effect. In exhibiting the dazzling orrery of 
artificial improvements, it may, momenta¬ 
rily, delude the senses, and mislead the 
hearts of those who witness the spectacle: 
but, the moments of folly must, speedily, 
cease; the cheat will be detected ; and, af¬ 
ter the termination of the deceitful scene, 
the thoughts of the spectators will, rapidly, 
revert to their accustomed current. But, 
alas ! where will, then, fie the really splen¬ 
did orb, that imparted happiness and bless¬ 
ings to all, under its cheering influence ? 
while they, stupidly, gazed on fancied per- 


228 . 


fection, and, heedlessly, saw the imitative 
quackery of political mechanism, this 
splendid orb may have vanished from their 
sphere, for ever, and left them only a suffi¬ 
cient light, to survey the horrors of their 
wretched situation !! !* 

* Innovations on systems'that are, avowedly, good 
and excellent in their nature, are, at all times, dan. 
gerous : reformation may unhinge the system altoge¬ 
ther, and, finally, bury both the system and its im¬ 
provers, in one common grave. Absolute perfection, 
in any system, is not to be expected ; all that man can 
do, is first to render every thing as perfect as he can, 
and, then, to use every possible prudence in preserving 
its advantages: when these get out of order, it is, 
surely, not necessary to begin anew; corrections are 
all that are then required, and, even these, must be 
made with a sparing and a lenient hand. 

- All human actions must bear the mark of human 
weakness, and all human laws must,therefore, be liable 
to error, and bear the stamp of mortality; what picture 
is there so perfect, but what has some blemish ? what 
statue is there so true, but what has some defect > 
even so, it is with the British constitution; we may 
amend to eternity, but shall we improve the tout-en¬ 
semble ? 


It was well observed by M. Roland, the minister 


229 


That there are defects in this country to 
remedy, cannot be denied: but, in piling 
innovations on ancient foundations, or ra¬ 
ther loosening the cement, which binds the 
latter together, will not more certain in¬ 
jury arise than probable good? will the 
proposed remedy be commensurate with 
the danger of the experiment ? or will 
England, to use the same words, as are 
applied to France in the preface, be hap¬ 
pier , wiser, or better, in consequence, than 

she can be, in her present state ? 

- / 

Let France be an example of the benefits 

for the home department in France, in 1792. “ Re¬ 

volutions are not brought about, according to ordi¬ 
nary rules j and the power, which occasions them, 
ought, soon, to repair under the shelter of the law,.un¬ 
less a complete dissolution be intended. The rage of 
a mob and the movement of an insurrection may be 
compared to a torrent, which overturns obstacles, that 
no other force could destroy ; but which, by its over¬ 
flowing, will carry ravage and devastation to a great 
distance, from its banks, unless it soon return to its 
proper channel.” 


X 


230 




of theory : she has tried reformation, but 
for what purpose ? merely to retrace her 
steps, and leave oh in a worse situation, 
as to individual liberty, than when, she 

began. 

And so it would be with England; she 
might try experiments too, and speculate, 
how far her situation might be amended by 
constitutional alterations : but, indifferent 
as it is, will political changes, at least, in the 
first instance, at all tend to render her ser¬ 
vice ? certainly not; the required improve¬ 
ment lies deeper : it is in the lives and bo¬ 
soms of every Englishman, and, from the 
highest even to the lowest, a general refor¬ 
mation of morals and manners might, cer¬ 
tainly, take place, with incalculable advan¬ 
tages. 

v V ' \ 

It is a maxim, which cannot be disputed, 
that the government of a country should 
be pure and unalloyed by baser metal: 
but the circumstance of misconduct in 


i 


231 


our statesmen, is no argument for disor¬ 
ders and laxity in those who are governed. 
It is a maxim, too, not of inferior conse¬ 
quence, that all changes, in government, 
should be, sedulously, avoided, and can be 
justified, only by absolute necessity, or, 
when the machine of government can per¬ 
form its functions no longer. But, surely, 
England cannot be said to labour under 
the necessity of destroying her old and 
valuable institutions, because a few self- 
interested and designing persons feel 
anxious for change. 

While the great majority of the people 
is Satisfied with floating down the general 
current, why should the public peace and 
common good be given up, as a sacrifice 
to ambitious views ? would not the stream 

V ' 

of power, after ambition had been com¬ 
pletely exhausted, by political changes, 
again serpentize towards its usual chan¬ 
nel, only rendered the fouler by its devi¬ 
ations ? 


i 


232 


Admitting, for one moment, that go¬ 
vernment does merit every severe and acri¬ 
monious accusation, that has been heaped, 
of late, so improperly upon it, if fair consti¬ 
tutional and decorous remonstrance will not 
effect an alteration of measures, private 
reformation may : the government will be 
ashamed to be separated from the people; 
and that very shame will compel them to 
imitate the example afforded. The higher 
will, then, derive a lesson from the lower, 
instead of the reverse; and it is much bet¬ 
ter, that the great should be taught their 
duties, than that their inferiors should 
wait their inclination to teach them : 
though the higher classes of societyfcare 
bound , in the writer’s opinion, to set a 
good example to those beneath them, from 
their superiority of station, w'hich may be 
compared to beacons, erected to deter sai¬ 
lors from a dangerous coast.* 

* “ The bad example of a lord, a minister, a mem¬ 
ber of parliament, or a superior of any kind, either in 
fortune, rank, or understanding, though it may bring 


233 


Such then being the case, the wished-for 
reformation, in England, should commence, 
instantly, in all classes, for there are defects 
in each. There should be no form, or ce¬ 
remony, as to the commencement of this 
necessary improvement; for he who begins, 
first, like him who waits not to be bidden 
twice, will pave the w r ay to the steps of 
others.* 

i * 

V. , 

This reformation is, equally, demanded 
by reason, by virtue, and by religion; and, 
if England should try to remedy her poli- 

double guilt on such offender, on account of the con¬ 
spicuous light he stands in, can afford no excuse to 
those, in a lower state or of inferior qualities, if they 
persist in the same improprieties.” 

“ Great men in the wrong,” says Young, “ are pow¬ 
erful engines of mischief; and, like bursting bombs, 
destroy themselves and ail around.” 

# There is an evident maxim, that a nation, fre- 
quently, follows customs and practices, which it des¬ 
pises, or is ready to despise, as soon as any one starts 
up, that has the courage to set the example, 

X 3 


2 34t 


tical defects, without, first, acquiring a 
moral improvement, her situation, instead 
of being amended, would be worse than 
before, because her old vices would be 
engrafted on her new system, and corrup¬ 
tion would be enabled to increase, with 
tenfold vigour. 

f 

Indeed, without an attention to this par¬ 
ticular, any change, however slight, would 
have a much stronger tendency to provoke 
mischief, than to conciliate harmony, so 
universally desirable at the present crisis < 
and it has well been asked, “ Whether an 
abhorrence, conceived or professed against 
corruption, should not commence in pri¬ 
vate conduct , ere it venture to meddle 
with political alterations, as example must, 
necessarily, have an effect on inferiors, 
and form a foundation for the proposed 
change.” 

Moral improvement, certainly, should 
precede any attempt at political ameliora- 


235 


tion, and then, both (if after the former has 
been effected, political reform should be¬ 
come necessary) might go hand in hand to¬ 
gether, presenting the fair image of a na¬ 
tional combination for national improve¬ 
ment, and an union of individuals for the 
eventual safety of the whole : like the silk 
machine, which, however diversified in its 
machinery, and worked by thousands of 
wheels, still unites the powers of all, for one 
purpose, and performs its allotted task, by 
collective energies. 

This comparison, perhaps, may not be 
exactly apposite; for the English consti¬ 
tution is by no means so complex as a 
silk-machine, which it might be, easily, ren¬ 
dered by modern reformers, without the 
same advantages, that its well-combined 
arrangements so singularly produce. 

But, after all, the simplest mechanism, 
is the most adapted to general apprehen- 


236 


sions. We give credence to palpable cir¬ 
cumstances, because we witness and 
readily comprehend them : and all those, 
who do not chuse to be wilfully blind, 
must perceive, that a constitution, such as 
that of England, formed of three co-exis¬ 
tent parts, and yet, mutually, dependent 
upon each other, is far preferable to any 
alteration, that they can suggest. 

A monarch, who dwells in the hearts 
of his subjects, whose desire and endea¬ 
vours have been, constantly, exerted for the 
happiness of his subjects, and whose virtues 
must endear him to all, who are actuated 
by the true sensations of humanity and al¬ 
legiance, is far preferable to any usurper— 
an hereditary nobility, founded on a long 
series of splendid ancestorial actions, is 
much superior to an ephemeral one, or to 
a collision of democratical titles, assumed 
perhaps by the veriest of the mob—a 
House of Commons, that, however une- 


tS7 


qually* returned, in the opinion of re¬ 
formers, can try the king’s son, and stands 

* It is one of the great misfortunes of the present 
age, that men seek redress of real evils, in theoretical, 
rather than in practical reforms. Speculative and 
plausible theories have led the present race of men 
astray j and they have fallen into the very great er¬ 
ror, of mistaking secondary causes, for original and 
primary. 

< * v 

Nothing can be more'absurd, than to attribute all 
the imperfections of a legislative assembly, to the mode 
of election, as the original cause of a good or bad re¬ 
presentation ; when the primary cause of the inconve¬ 
niences and defects, attendant on such assemblies, lies 
in the imperfection of human nature itself. A re¬ 
presentation of the people, let the elections be con¬ 
ducted as they may, will never attain any thing like per¬ 
fection, either in practical or systematic arrangement. 
Those, therefore, who excite discontent in a nation, be¬ 
cause the representation is not right, ought well to 
consider the evil consequences which their speeches are 
liable to produce. 

Universal suffrage, that political spell, which is to 
remove every evil, was tried in France, and produced 
the most horrible association of representatives, that 
ever assembled ; and never was there known a horde of 
banditti, who, from their situation, are at war with the 
rest of their race, so atrociously corrupt in principle* 


238 


up, on all just occasions, as the palladium 
of the liberties of those, from whence they 

' » 

or so completely vicious in practice, as the assembly 
chosen by universal suffrage. The cruel murders of 
the royal family of France, and of the most virtuous 
throughout the land,of all the antient judges and men 
of principle and respectability, the elevation to power 
of Roberspierre, and of men even still worse, were the 
result of the experiment of equal representation or 
universal suffrage. The soil of France was stained 
with the blood of innocent men, who perished by 
thousands on the scaffold j and never did the most 
unrelenting conqueror treat a resisting people so 
cruelly as these representatives treated tjieir consti¬ 
tuents, 

The friends of universal suffrage will, perhaps, say, 
that the comparison is not fair ; that France is full of 
violent and vicious people, and that the English are 
wise and virtuous. Without contesting this point, 
however, as perhaps might be done with some degree 
of success, let us compare France with herself, at diffe¬ 
rent periods. 

The manner of electing the first or constituent assem¬ 
bly was in theory, very imperfect j the second, or legisla¬ 
tive assembly, was chosen by an immense number of vo¬ 
ters,and approached pretty nearly to universal suffrage, 
as every man who paid half-a-crown a year, in direct 
taxes, had a vote : this included most of the popula- 


239 


sprung — are circumstances of which 
Frenchmen cannot boast, and the dispo- 


tion, but perfection was aimed at; and the third as¬ 
sembly, called the National Convention, was chosen 
by the Universal^ French Nation. Every male, who was 
•f age, (except debtors or paupers) had a vote. This 
was the ACME of political perfection, according to the 
theoretical reformers, and the history of the first five 
years of the revolution, (in our pwn time) proves, that 
the real case was thus: 

I 

The first assembly, chosen on wrong principles, 
was tolerably good j the second, chosen nearly by the 
perfect plan, was much worse ; and the third assem¬ 
bly, chosen by universal suffrage, was the most exe¬ 
crable congregation of persons that ever existed. 

The representatives, thus chosen, imprisoned, ba¬ 
nished, and massacred their constituents, without sc 
much as taking the trouble, to put them on their trial. 
This is no exaggeration j all Europe trembled with 
horror at the cruelties, that were committed with an 

9 I 

impudent disregard for the rights of the very people, 
who had placed them in authority. In one word, as 
the system of representation got more perfect , the repre¬ 
sentatives got worse; and when the former became quite 
perfecty the latter became quite infernal. 

As this is the only example of that plan of repre- 


sition of Buonaparte will never impart to 
his slavish vassals. 


sentation, which theoretical reformers aim at being 
put in practice, it cannot be useless to quote it, only 
as a matter of curiosity. If, however, we consider 
that it is something more than a matter of- curiosity, 
that the horrid result was a natural consequence of 
placing the power of chusing representatives into the 
hands of the poorer classes, who are, in all countries 
the most numerous, and who will, always, upon the 
plan of universal suffrage, have that power; then we 
must admit, that to follow such a systematic theory is 
attended with considerable danger. But, unfortunately 
for orators and men, who call themselves patriots, 
there is no scope for brilliancy of eloquence, or for ex¬ 
citing a general interest and enthusiasm, unless upon 
some general principle; and, therefore, it is, that those, 
who want general support, take hold of some subject, 
that excites general interest. 

That universal suffrage is incompatible with the 
lafety of the state, is certain. There are about four 
millions of men, who have attained age in Great Bri¬ 
tain and Ireland, and there are 658 representatives, 
who give about 4600 votes for each member: and, as 
the members are chosen (generally) in pairs, it would 
give more than 9000 voters for each place; of which 
votes the great majority would always be poor men; 
labourers, mechanics, or servants. The respectable 


241 


The French are subjected to the op¬ 
pressive sway of an arbitrary monarch, 


voters would always constitute only a minority, and, 
therefore, in fact, would not be represented. 

If there were in this country universal suffrage, 
then the number of electors, in every case, would be 
nearly equal to those of Westminster ; and, in very few 
places, there would be so many proprietors and per¬ 
sons carrying on respectable business. The lower 
orders would nominate, almost in every instance ; and, 
without enquiring into the advantage or disadvan¬ 
tage, the wisdom or policy of that, we must, in the 
first place, acknowledge that it would be unfair, and 
that it would leave those most interested in the prefer- 

N 

vation of the state, in a situation the least able to 
protect it or assist in its preservation. 

A nation that is governed by the lower classes, or 
by representatives chosen by the lower classes, must 
be in a constant state of change ; and it would, necessa¬ 
rily, be the same with every country, where the power 
resided essentially in the lower orders: for, as those 
who rose one year by their exertions, would be high 
the next, a new effort to displace them would be 
made by such as remained below, in whom the power 
resided, and thus a continual state of ebullition or of 
revolution would be kept up, till anarchy would ea- 


Y 


242 

I ' 

who seals the press, levies taxes, and 
raises conscripts, by his single fiat. The 


sue, out of which anarchy would rise despotism, 
as it always has done, and always will do. 

But, without equal representation, even universal 
suffrage is a mere chimera, in so far as it is connected 
with right ; for, though every person in every county 
were to have a vote, yet, unless the counties were 
equal, or nearly equal, there would be no sort of 
equality among the voters. 

/ 

• \ / 

/ 

If, again, we were to have an equal representation, 
London and Middlesex would have about fifty repre¬ 
sentatives! who, being all animated with one spirit, 
and having constituents, who had one interest, and 
could act in unison, would be more than equal to 
twice the number of members from different parts, 
without connection, without uniformity of object, 
and acting separately as they would naturally do ! ! ! 

If, then, we were to equalize the representation, we 
should greatly injure the spirit, that ought to animate 
the members : and thus, by trying to reform parlia¬ 
ment in its manner and formation, we should destroy 
*t, in its efficient utility and real advantage. 

In whatever manner we view universal suffrage and 
equal representation, together , we shall find them, to- 


243 


English are free, under the protection of 
the law; and, however any of her indivi¬ 
duals in power may have committed er¬ 
rors, she cannot accuse them of having, wil¬ 
fully, devised schemes to rob the people of 
their natural rights and civil liberties : the 
best men, it must be recollected, are not 
infallible, and the worst can only be 
thought so.* 

tally, inimical to public tranquillity and national 
safety ; and, if we take them, separately , they are a 
mockery. They are incapable of satisfying those, who 
seek that sort of reform , termed by some , reform upon prin¬ 
ciple, andy by others, radical reform. We must, then, lose 
sight of that, and not consider the present plan faulty, 
because it is unequal; neither must we, in equality, aim 
at perfection or amelioration, but rather enquire into the 
actual defects, and try, if we cannot get rid, in some de¬ 
gree, of these, without endangering the advantages 
that we, at present possess.”—Playfair’s Family An¬ 
tiquity, vol. v. a work of most admirable design and 
tendency in these levelling times, which is patronised 
by the Royal Family, and an immense list of the nobi¬ 
lity and baronets/ 

* For princes to be served by a set of men without 
faults is impossible ; but ministers, by the irreproach- 
ability of their own conduct, have it in their power te 

y 2 


244 


England, certainly, has no cause for pre¬ 
sumption, nor should she be alarmed, by 

i 

root out faction and tranquillize the minds of the peo¬ 
ple. When these see, that ministers do not mind the 
erection of their own fortunes, more than the public in¬ 
terest j and that they do not so much consider, who 
are their personal friends, as who best love and can best 
serve the public j in short, when the people see that 
they have disinterested minds, clean hands, and such 
undaunted spirits, as constantly to pursue what is 
right, and to avoid what is wrong, without regarding 
either to please or displease, the people, then, may 
justly exclaim, “ Such ministers only aie a benefit to 
the country.” But, on the contrary, if ministers have 
neither courage to face danger, nor prudence to avert 
it; if they cannot bear with the heats, passions, and fol¬ 
lies of mankind ; if they shrink under perils,, and are 
elated by prosperity ; if their genius be low, and their 
thoughts high ; if they have neither foresight, quick 
apprehensions, nor solid judgment, they ought not, 
they should not presume, to take upon them, much less 
to continue in, the administration of national affairs. 

In such times as these, the mere expressions 
of sorrow by such persons, for the consequences 
of incapability, or the assumed congratulation of 
having done all, that it was in their limited powers 
to do, are [no source of satisfaction to Englishmen; 
who have suffered, deeply, by theoretical experiments 


M 5 


idle fears. “ Good is, frequently, the off¬ 
spring of eviland all those circumstances, 

t > 

and political manoeuvres, and may well exclaim with 
the frogs in the fable, u what has been only a sport to 
you, has proved death to us j” or with Lucan, 

t( Tot rebus iniquis 
<f Paruimus victi.” 

Ambition is, and ever will be, a most dangerous 
weapon for those to trifle with, who do not possess 
talents, equal to every gradation, and, Proteus like, 
cannot adopt the form of their abilities, to the neces¬ 
sities and expediencies of every situation 

v * 

Steep heights are dangerous to weak heads; but, still, 
with a fatality, known only to the most inexperienced 
and fool-hardy, these very heads are the most aspiring 
to the honour of being decked with a fool’s cap, for 
the vain pleasure of hearing the jingling of its bells. 
Anxious to become the land-marks of public ridicule, 
by directing measures, whose longitude and latitude 
are beyond their scanty comprehensions, they perplex 
the world and their country, with operations of the 
most singular and heterogeneous nature; and, soon, 
tired of the heavy responsibilities they have incurred, 
as public men, and satisfied with the cheese parings 
they have scraped together, during their adventurous 
career, they hasten into obscurity, like the pestilen- 

Y 3 


24 6 


which have affected her prosperity and 
' national happiness, however painful, may 

tial vapours of the night, before the rays of the rising 
sun, and leave only the stench of their existence. 
Such men as these cannot retire too speedily from pub¬ 
lic life, in which they were not placed as statues, but 
—to act. 

Having animadverted, as impartiality required, on 
the errors of weak and ambitious heads, it is but jus¬ 
tice to add, that 

ii -there’s a lust in Englishmen to blame 

tl A premier’s conduct, which no charm can tame.” 

Ministers like butts, are, generally, aimed at by the 
arrows of—opposition ; by men, who, whileTthey con¬ 
demn their manoeuvres with every possible acrimony 
of expression, are, totally, unable to substitute im¬ 
proved modes of proceeding in their room : in fact, mi¬ 
nisters prove, at the same time, objects of attack and 
envy, of which the latter sentiment is, in general, the 
most prevailing one. 

In short, though this minister be removed and ano¬ 
ther immediately succeed him, yet, without a thorough 
unanimity in all parties, it will be, soon, impossible to 
conduct the domestic and foreign concerns of the na¬ 
tion, in such a manner as they should be managed: 



247 


prove, eventually, of the greatest service to 
her, by opening her eyes to the perverse¬ 
ness and obstinacy of her past career, and 
leading her, gradually, to a safer path, with 
morals amended by an awful lesson, with 
hearts filled with gratitude to that Al¬ 
mighty Being, Who has preserved her from 
the whirlwind, that has rooted up so many 
powers, and with a fixed determination to 
practise the wisdom, which past inflictions 
must have inculcated. A sensible, becom¬ 
ing, and manly use will, thus, be made of 
her very errors; and hope may, again, en¬ 
fettered on all sides by jacobinical clamour out of the 
house, and a vexatious and petulant opposition within, 
it will soon be morally impossible for any ministers 
to steer the helm of government, in the best possible- 
mode, for the advantage of the country. 

What must be the consequence ? the people wil 
become the more dissatisfied, and, perhaps, ima¬ 
gine, that all public men resemble each other: it is 
unnecessary to go farther, for, when this idea shall be 
thoroughly imbibed, a revolution will not be very 
distant. 


248 


liven the horizon that has been so long 
overclouded. 

✓ 

' j 

Instead of being depressed with a sense 
of danger, all ranks and degrees of m^n 
should feel that elevation of spirit, which 
threatening perils always excite in gene¬ 
rous minds; and should exert that noble 
excellence of the soul, which rises su¬ 
perior, even to the decrees of fate, and ex¬ 
tracts benefit from every misfortune, how r - 
ever deplorable. The desire also of pub¬ 
lic prosperity should be a powerful motive 
of conduct in all classes, for in what way 
can that prosperity be so effectually esta¬ 
blished, as by public virtue? public virtue, 
jt has been very well remarked, is public 

prosperity, and he is the best citizen who 

■* 

is the best man : how much should this 
desire operate now; now, when faction is 
ousy in promoting animosities, and mortifi¬ 
cations ha,ve occurred to irritate and 
wound ? 


i 


24 9 


Without meddling with abstract rights, 

J t- 7 o J 

there is sufficient, in this country, to awaken 
such a desire, and to, beneficially, employ 
the minds ot men. Various objects demand 
our immediate attention, such as, whether 
the cultivation of lands—the increase of 
population—the amelioration of the state 
of the lower classes—and the advance of 
useful arts—have made every possible pro¬ 
gress ; whether the mountains are covered 
with wood for future fleets; whether fo¬ 
reign and internal trade enjoy all the li¬ 
berty, ease, and facility of expansion, 
which they should possess; whether all 
the rivers are joined by canals, and all 
the counties are crossed and intersected 
by commodious roads, to convey our va¬ 
rious products, superfluities, and general 
abundance, from one extremity of the em¬ 
pire to the other; whether our population 
be industrious and contented; whether 
the taxes, inevitable in endurance, as they 
are now become, are proportioned to real 
exigencies; and, finally, whether our 


25 0 


finances are administered, without rapine, 
and with every possible economy : when 
all these shall have been enquired into, 
and remedied, then, and not until then , it 
will be time to thihk whether, even then , 
there be no other resource left, but the 
violent and dangerous expedient of politi¬ 
cal innovations. 

“ A spirit of enquiry,” to use Mr. Hoi- 
crofts’ words, in his celebrated novel of 
Hugh Trevor, “ is abroad, and a simpli¬ 
city of manners, a benevolent economy, a 
yigorous munificence, and a comprehen¬ 
sive philanthropy can alone satisfy it, and 

preserve that social order, which every 

* 

lover of the human race delights to con¬ 
template, but of which they (the reformers) 
arrogate to themselves the merit of being 
the sole advocates.” 

“ It is the moral system of society, that 
wants reform; this cannot be, suddenly, 
produced, nor by the efforts of any indivi- 


251 


dual; but it maybe progressive and every in¬ 
dividual may contribute, though some much 
more powerfully than others. The rich, 
in proportion as they shall understand this 
power and these duties, will become pecu¬ 
liarly instrumental; for poverty, by being 
subjected to continual labour,'is, necessa¬ 
rily, ignorant: and it is well known, how 
dangerous it is for ignorance to turn 
reformer. 

* ,To preserve tranquillity and promote the happi¬ 
ness of those beneath them, should be almost the first 
duty of the great and affluent. The nobles and gen¬ 
tlemen of England should be the fathers and counsel¬ 
lors of their inferiors, not merely in the national assem¬ 
blies, but each in his private station. The poor laws 
in particular, are calculated to crush national spirit, 
and debase the sentiments of the poorer classes : to the 
amendment of these, their superiors should turn their , 
immediate attention. Indeed, and with celerity too, 
the great should conciliate those beneath them, by all 
possible means, by amenity of manner and suavity of 
language; by promoting industry, and diverting it 
from the vortex of political disquisitions ; by fostering 
talent, and disseminating their thousands, for the be¬ 
nevolent purposes of rescuing merit, pining in ob¬ 
scurity, relieving unmerited indigence, and comforting 


252 


Supposing, even, that our past measures 
could be justified, yet, this would be no ar¬ 
gument for the excellence of our past moral 
and civil conduct: appearances are against 
us, and wisdom and energy, in virtue, can 
alone give strength and stability to our 
political designs. 


despair : instead of maintaining unnecessary establish- 
' ments, and lavishing their favours on opera signoras 
or foreign emasculi. Such an appropriation of their 
wealth as this, would be indeed worthy of the English 
affluent, and would yield, not only to them a divine 
sensation, but to their country a material service f 
How many of those, who now rail at the regular consti¬ 
tution, in inflammatory libels, do it, perhaps, from no 
other motive than the want of bread ! let the great and 
affluent imagine themselves in a similar situation, with 
families looking up to them for support and protection! 
In the harrowing- moments of despair, the mind 
catches, eagerly, at every twig, that may afford a chance 
of relief; and the wretched individual, rather than see 
his wife and offspring perish, under his eye, by lin¬ 
gering famine, reluctantly disseminates poison, (in 
injurious writings) a poison, which, but for them, he 
would never disperse 1 He, then, acquires a popularity 
and gains notice^—a prison is his fate, and he becomes 
rich—he, then, thinks no more of his past sufferings, 


253 


Yfere those, too, whose sentiments are 
dictated bv the mob, whose views are cir- 
cuinscribed by interest alone, and who ap¬ 
pear foremost, in the ranks of faction, to 
apply themselves to the rectification of 
their own errors, and the suppression, of 
immorality in those, whom they ^o un¬ 
happily lead astray, they would be more 
laudably employed than at ' L he present 
moment, and would, then, indeed, deserve 
the name of patriots. 

By their, conti nr ^Hy, pressing the neces¬ 
sity of reform r anc | complaining of griev¬ 
ance^,; one Tvr ju jd be induced to suppose, 
that these "constellations of talent, and ac- 
cumuli c j ons of virtue, would, also, clothe 
the r ia ked, feed the hungry, instruct the 
ill* -informed, and direct the wavering arid 
weak in the path of virtue! Ah no 1 by 
raving about wrongs, and roaring about 


and liis former good principles arc, for ever, sacrificed 
to revenge and s^lf-interest!! 1 
' Z 


254 


rights, they intend nothing more than to 
excite a discontent among the people.* It 

* “ Instead of those persons, who, by writings and 
speeches, excite discontent, being entitled to the name 
of patriots, they ought to be held as the enemies of 
their country j and, though the press is free for re- 
marks,yet, they,who convert it to a. bad purpose,ought 
to be discouraged by contempt, when they cannot, le¬ 
gally, be brought to punishment. The practice of 
holding every discontented man as a lover of hiscoun* 
fry is productive ot great evil : for no man or nation 
can be happy, if any oue has art and argument enough 
to persuade them that they are miserable.”—Mr. 
Playfair’s Family Antiquity, vol. v. 

« 

It has been remarked, that ** a conspiracy against 
the invaluable liberty of the press seemed to exist, 
amongst the bad men of the bar, and the bad men of 
the state but, the writer conceives, that the greatest 
enemy the press has is its own licentiousness : tmth 
certainly maybe spoken without defamation * and if 
any men’s measures be obnoxious, those measures may 
be attacked, without scurrility or inculcating dejLc- 
terious tenets. 

The liberty of the press is a jewel, that cannot be 
too highly valued ; and, were it less brilliant than it is 
in England, it might be equally worthless as the pre¬ 
cious stone found by the cock in the fable : but the 


255 


these reformers could prove, that the coun¬ 
try is in a state of slavery; that the landed 

possession of a prize is no argument for its abuse. 
This liberty was given for the wisest and best of pur¬ 
poses, to check public men, in measures evidently 
leaning to the public injury, but not to influence or di¬ 
vide, for that is dangerous: the liberty of the press was 
afforded, not to subvert the state or produce changes 
in the constitution; but to moderate, to appease, 
and to reconcile, where there appears a tendency to 
faction, and the public good is likely to be prejudiced, 
by private animosities. Harmony and order should be 
inculcated ; vigilance in public men to the public 
good should be particularly urged ; integrity and 
probity should be recommended ; but, above all, care 
should be taken to repress party spirit, and to counsel 
the extinction of mutual affronts, personal exceptions, 
and violent extremes: in short, to make no breach, 
but to narrow that already made, in every possible 
mode. 

How applicable are these remarks to the watchmen 
of the state, the daily journals, who regard parties 
more than their country, and change their politics 
witli every administration ; railing at those, on whom 
they lavished the most fulsome praise, when out of 
power, and vice versa ! 

The praise of some of these is like idolatry, which 

z 2 


256 

commercial,/and monied interests, are, 
mutually, oppressive to one another, the 

v 

worships even stocks and stones, while the images will 
gratify the desired purpose : their censures proceed 
from disappointment, which, maliciously, refines on 
every failing, and, demoniacally, tortures it to the worst 
possible construction. But, it may be asked, what 
have indiscriminate and, perhaps, undeserved praise or 
abuse, of this or that party, to do with the good of the 
country ? the readers of these eulogies or violent phi¬ 
lippics may be entertained : but do they gain that, 
which should be the subject of the publication ? they 
are gravely told, that such a person will save the 
country ; that another person will as infallibly destroy 
it, at the same time that present measures are justified 
by satirizing former ones, or contradicting what they 
have, before, approved and justified ; bur, when we 
see their present idol seated in the throne of power, 
then, censure begins and some other object is sought 
to lavish praise on. The following extract from the 
Morning Chronicle of the 26th of February 1810, sheds 
some light on these remarks. u I have done it, daily, 
three hundred and thirteen times a year, for three and 
thirty years of my life, have I proclaimed, that a total 
change of system would bestow a crowd of blessings 
on the country; it was clearly and perfectly known 
w hat I meant by a change of system ; that I meant a 
change of measures, together, undoubtedly, with a 
change of men, as a security to the country for a 


257 


necessity of reform would present itself, in 
a palpable shape : but, on the contrary, to 

change of measures ;” and yet, if any one will take 
the trouble to peruse the columns of the Morning. 
Chronicle, during the Walchtnn administration, he will 
find it desirous of seeing the same persons in power 
whose measures it has, before, condemned, and who, 
undoubtedly, must be included in the men, who have 
been so unfortunate as to incur its disapprobation for 
thirty-three years past ! Surely, in this, there is either 
a want of political consistency, or those whom the 
Morning Chronicle now praises and wishes to see in 
power, must have revolutionized themselves, accord¬ 
ing to its sentiments—perhaps, the Morning Chronicle 
intended to except these men from its ponderous accu¬ 
sation. It is arrogance itself to say under present circum¬ 
stances, that any man can save the country, who is be¬ 
set by vexatious opposition, whether right or wrong, 
and is perpetually counteracted in his projects, merely, 
because he is their proposer. 

Poor Peter Porcupine, whose arrows have, literally, 
recoiled to wound himself, is another instance of poU- 
cal consistency ! From him, also, the writer extracts 
a- passage, illustrative of these remarks. 

“ It is a truth, that no one will deny, that the oppo» 
sition papers of this country have become its scourge, 
I speak with few exceptions. It is said, that they en¬ 
lighten the people ; but their light is like the torch of 

z 3 


$5S 


use the words of Mr. Burke, “ We have 
liberty; our persons are safe; our pro- 


an incendiary, and the one has the same distinct effect 
on the mind, as the other has on matter.” See Demo¬ 
cratic Principles illustrated; Part II., p. 51, in the 
note. The motto of the Examiner, “ Party is the 
madness of many, for the gain of a few,” contrasted 
with the devotedness to party, which fills its egotic 
pages, affords an additional proof of the consistency 
of journalists ! But the Statesman, perhaps, is the 
most prominent example, at present, of political pre¬ 
tensions. If we are to credit its paragraphs, it con¬ 
centres all the wisdom, purity, and talent in the king¬ 
dom : while it fulminates its terrible on dits y among the 
lower classes, and endeavours to excite a veneration 
foran estate of the constitution, by terming one of its 
members a booby!! ! There is really a degree of pa¬ 
triotism and delicacy in this, beyond all praise ! In 
offering these remarks on the public journals, the 
writer only exercises the same right, that they use, of 
making comments on obvious occurrences. That any 
thing he has said, which was dictated by the best mo¬ 
tives, relative to the high mightinesses of public opi¬ 
nion, should produce any infl uence, is a chimerical ex¬ 
pectation : should it offend, he shall not blame himself, 
but pity those who feel its justice. If it be natural to 
seek foi liberty, when we are bound in chains, it is 
equally natural, that the extent of freedom should not 
abused. There is a certain latitude in the natural 


259 


petty is protected; and an accumula¬ 
tion ot wealth is, on all sides, encouraged.” 
The consideration, then, is, have the peo¬ 
ple ot England any real grievance ? if they 
have, are they willing, tor the purpose of 
remedy, to entrust their constitution into 
the hands of political reformers, who 

world, beyond which no human efforts, however free, 
can pass ; there are the same limits in the moral world ; 
an<} the liberty of the press, if properly appretiated, 
is fully capable of giving bounds to itself, without 
any need of legal restraints. li No man should be 
ashamed to speak, in the came of his country , or of pub¬ 
lishing what he thinks, when it may lead to the advan¬ 
tage oi his countrymenby this invaluable maxim 
the liberty of the press should be, solely, directed. 

To conclude—there is another system of disorder 
prevailing in this country, which, certainly, leads to 
consequences of the most dangerous nature, not only 
to the legislative power, in particular, but to. the 
peace and welfare of the community, in general, and 
this is debating societies. These societies, or rather 
a society, vomit forth the most pestiferous miasmata; 
with which every street, lane, and alley, is impregnated: 
and the poison, unhappily, is too easily imbibed by 
those, to whom it is chiefry and so cheaply adminis¬ 
tered j. to afford any hope of a speedy cure. 


260 


would throw every thing into confusion, 
and, then, mount, on the prostrate ruins ?* 

* It was remarked by Milton, that the trappings of a 
monarchy^ would support a republic : but it was, 
more truly, said, by the lord chancellor Clarendon :—< 

ft There was not a commonwealth in Europe, 
where every man worth one thousand pounds, 
did not pay more to the (democratical) govern¬ 
ment, (when it prevailed in England), than a man 
of a thousand pounds a year, ever, did to the crown, 
before the late troubles; and he was persuaded, that 
the monster common-wealth cost this nation more, in 
the years she was begot, borfi, and brought up, and in 
herfuneral, than the monarchy had done for six hun¬ 
dred years.” And what reason have we to suppose, 
that those mock patriots, who inveigh, with unceasing 
animosity, against the peculation, oppression, and la¬ 
vish grants of the crown, would not be guilty of the 
very offences, of which they complain, by obtaining 
more profuse grants from parliament, (if parliament 
should be permitted to exist), and increasing the pub¬ 
lic expenditure in a tenfold proportion > 

Henry Martin is a memorable example, that the 


t William the Conqueror had ^1061 10s. a-day, 
which, allowing for the comparative value of money, 
would amount now to near four, millions per annum- 



<j6i 


These reformers (by inciting the people to 
insurrection and outrage, while they make 
public declarations of their unshaken loy<- 
alty, and unremitting regard for the 
laws), it may be, positively, asserted, are 
enemies to every well-regulated form of 
government, and particularly to the privi¬ 
leges of parliament, one of the most essen¬ 
tial brandies of our constitution : but, it is 
to be hoped, that the good sense of the 
country will, soon, reject their gilded pills, 

loudest declaimers against tyranny and peculation, 
when raised to power, often, become the greatest t 
tyrants and plunderers themselves ; and this proof af¬ 
fords a salutary warning to the people, that the vision¬ 
ary schemes of perfect liberty terminate, either in re¬ 
publican despotism or in the tyranny ot usurped au¬ 
thority. His life, also, exhibits a striking instance, that 
those, who begin revolutions, are, ultimately,sacrificed 
by those who continue them j and that they, who 
,shake off tile due restraints of a legal and regular go¬ 
vernment, will suffer greater oppressions from those 
whom they contribute to elevate, than they ever ap¬ 
prehended fj^om the monarch, wham they assisted to 
dethrone. 


/ 


with as much abhorrence as they would a 
draught of deadly poison, and that it will 
withstand every attempt, at any other reform 
than that possible to be achieved, in men’s 
minds, morals, and manners. it is not 
unnecessary either to caution those, who 
are the promoters of the perpetual outcry 
for reform, to desist, in time, lest they 
should be among the first victims to that 
monster, which they may give birth to, or 
lest the angry lion, they have been fos¬ 
tering, should give the first proof of its 
strength, by destroying its keepers: but, 
perhaps, presumptuous and purblind as 
they are, they vainly flatter themselves, that 
they, in their almighty puissance, can 
quiet the perturbed spirit, when they have 
raised it, and say to the whirlwind, “ Re¬ 
press thyself.” 

Even, if a reform could be obtained 
without collateral mischief and with general 
consent, such a reform would not add an 


iota to the blessings which England enjoys : 
but, supposing that it could, surely, weaken¬ 
ing the foundation of the House of Com¬ 
mons is not the mode to uphold the security 
Oi the constitution; on the contrary, is it 
not directly subversive of the liberties of 
England, and would it not subject it to the 
revolution of a thousand changes? The 
house should have an identity of interest 
wit K the people, on all questions, united 
with privilege, for the pr * cuon of their 
constituents, the most p< feet indepen¬ 
dence, and unbiassed deliberation, and any 
ruorm, that would strengthen this identity 
between the house and the landed, com¬ 
mercial, and monied interests, might be ac¬ 
ceptable : but a house, founded on uni¬ 
versal suffrage or a pure democracy, would 
involve the country in a state of anarchy, 
and plunge it into horrors similar to those 
of the French revolution. “ The house of 
commons," said Mr. Burke, “ is the chief 
support of the constitution; it is a balance 
between the power of the crown and the 


264 


\ 

violence of the people: destroy that, and 
ail its buttresses will instantly tall. * 

“ A temperate reform of parliament,” say 
the reformers, “ would consist in removing 
the innovations and abuses which have 
crept into the constitution, and in restoring 

* It was remarked by Mr. Fox, “ Invigorate the 
democratic part ot the constitution ; render the house 
of commons so honestly and substantially the repre¬ 
sentative of the people, that republicans may no lon¬ 
ger have topics of invective, nor ministers the means 
of corruption.*’ "Would to Heaven that this invigo- 
ration could silence the vanity of those, whom no 
form of government could please or satisfy, that is 
not identified with themselves! or t It at the means of 
corruption were easy to be avoided. But if a minis¬ 
ter may be supposed to have it in his power to soothe 
to his own purposes or side, the greater part of 658 in¬ 
dividuals, it is not unlikely that he might do the same 
with double the number. On the contrary, it a pure 
democracy were to take place, what would become of 
the executive government and the house of peers ? 
they would be mere make-weights in the scale of the 
constitution, and the third estate would, speedily, be¬ 
come the first estate, from which one would soon spring 
up to be a monarch, by the name of consul, director, 
cr protector. 




26$ 

to the people the frequent right of election.” 
But, let the writer ask, have these persons 
considered the practicability of a reform; 
and, secondly, the risk of direful conse¬ 
quences, in case of a failure in the attempt ? 

What will the advocates for a reform, 
in parliament and triennial elections say, 
when they are told, that, during nine years, 
five new parliaments have assembled to- 
gethei, and two of these, in the short space 
of one year r and will they venture to assert, 
that the country has been, at all, benefited, 
by such frequent changes. Their wishes 
have been more than gratified ; for, instead 
ot triennial elections, there have been bien¬ 
nial, annual, and half-yearly ones; and, yet, 
the purity of representation has not in¬ 
creased. This proposed change, there- 
fore, is more in idea than in fact; and it is 
very certain, from present appearances, 
where each party that is out wishes to get 
in, that the reform will be rendered unne¬ 
cessary even by their contentions. 


% 


A A 


A real reform in parliament may, easily* 
take place, without changing the constitu¬ 
tion; and this would arise by every mem¬ 
ber of it instantly rallying round the com¬ 
mon cause, forgetful ot every prejudice 
and personal animosity, and solely anxious 
to render his best services, not merely to 
the borough or county he may represent, 
but to the whole nation, with zeal steeled 
against everv influence, but that of the 
public good! In this respect a reform 
might take place, not only without danger, 

& 1 i 

but with essential advantage to the coun¬ 
try. Another circumstance, by way of 
improvement, may here be intioduced, as 
to the members of the upper and lower 
houses constantly debating in their par¬ 
liamentary robes, which would impart an 
additional and proper solemnity to their 
proceedings : the writer knows not when 
such a system of dishabille was introduced, 
but this, added to the equality in point 
of dress, now too prevalent in every class, 
tends, considerably, to enlarge the level¬ 
ling system. 


267 


While the House of Commons shall 
perform its functions, no ascendancy 
should be permitted to prevail over or 
terrify it, into measures of a feeble nature. 
The House of Commons is the represen¬ 
tative body of the empire, and cannot be 
subjected to any other controul than that 
of the law, without absurdity, without in¬ 
convenience, and inexpressible misfor¬ 
tunes ; and, as it can have no interest in 
violating this law, it should be equally cau¬ 
tious in preventing its violation. 

Liberty, if Englishmen want more than 
they, already, possess, would consist in a 
perfect equilibrium, in the most closely ce¬ 
mented union, between all the parts of the 
empire, each mutually dependent on each, 
but looking up to the constituted authori¬ 
ties as the primurn mobile of the inva¬ 
luable blessing: but, while infatuation 
shall give an ear to designing patriots, 
and self-created regulators may instil sen¬ 
timents, subversive of every thing valu- 

A A 2 


268 


able in the church, constitution, and state, 
low ambition will possess the most flatter¬ 
ing opportunity of gratifying itselt, and of 
climbing into consequence, on the shoul¬ 
ders of an idle, noisy, and discontented 
populace I 

Whenever any turbulent person, with 
brazen face and lungs of leather, either 
through pique, self-interest, or ambition, 
burns with a factious desire to carry a 
point against government, or to promote 
his own sinister designs, he has nothing 
more to do than to publish a violent pam¬ 
phlet, or to fix his placards in every street, 
and thus, by flattering the consequence 
and majesty of the people, to hurl defiance, 
as it were, against supreme authority. 

Against such as these, the law alone, and 
not parliament, should act they are in- 


* To prevent any misconstruction of this remark, 
the writer thinks it necessary to mention, that he 
places the most inviolable faith in the privileges of 


QG9 


sects, which the noble lion should not convert 
to mammoths, and excoriate his own skin 

parliament and in its power of committal for libels 
and contempt. May it for ever possess them! But lie 
humbly conceives, that the mode of punishment by 
law is a more dignified one, than degrading itself by 
noticing the puny animals who snarl at its authority ; 
such gnats are literally beneath its notice ! In the late 
instance of Sir Francis Burdett, the case was different j 
he had bound himself by its privileges and customs ; 
lie had sworn to protect them ; he had exercised them 
himself in the case of General Claveiing and Captain 
Sanden ; he, then, was a proper object for parliamen¬ 
tary reprehension, and he, justly, merited the punish¬ 
ment awarded to his ’libellous offence .- there cannot be 
g doubt on tills point, in any rational mind, and none 
but political logician's and innovating cavil lers would 

venture to dispute it. 

* 

Supposing Sir Francis to have been a member of 
the jockey club, or any other club, would lie, or 
would lie not, have considered himself bound by their 
bye-laws and customs ? In how much a greater de¬ 
gree, then, was he bound by the laws and customs of 
a solemn assembly, of which he has always been -so 
anxious to become a member? 

The very forbearance ol government relative to., 
libels in obscure persons would seal their fate ; but 
whilst they continue to take the printers and pub- 

A A 3 


970 

* 

\ 

to put an end to. Like the Newfoundland 
dog, on the quay at Newcastle, who, when 
assailed by a snarling cur, gently carried 
the animal to the edge of the water and 
dropped him into it—so let the parliament 
act: as nothing more nor less than law, 
will satisfy these railers, give it them in 
profusion, souze them into the stream, 
and it is probable, that their heated imagi¬ 
nations will, soon, cool in the frigo rifle 
medium. 

The maxim has long been received, that 
England can be ruined only by her parlia^* 
ments; and she, certainly, will be, if parlia¬ 
ments should grow so weak, so negligent, 
or so corrupt, as to suffer themselves to be 
dictated to by any member, or the out¬ 
cries of a mob. The privileges of the 
House of Commons are founded on the 

Ushers into custody, they give a new blaze to the pub¬ 
lication, and, eventually,make the fortunes o£the bold' 
adventurers. 


) 


incidental and inferior power of self-go¬ 
vernment, subordinate to, but consistent 
with, the great end of an independent re¬ 
presentative right, and, necesato pre¬ 
serve a pure representation; .. ‘t : . 1 n the 

privileges should be dissolved in efibet, the 
power of the crown and monarchy itself, 
which they equally limit and protect, 
would also be dissolved. The Commons 
of Great Britain exist in parliament, and 
not out of it; and it is necessary they 
should be invested with privileges to main¬ 
tain their authority : should they ever, pu- 
sillanimously, consent to surrender these, 

/ 

the main prop of the constitution will be 
taken away; next would be attacked the 
house of peers; and then the executive 
branch; until the three estates had given 
way for the superstructure of anarchy, 
and the final elevation of some usurper* 
To suppose, then, for one moment, that a 
House of Commons can betray the rights 
of the people, or surrender the privi¬ 
leges, by which those rights are guarded 


2/2 


and maintained, is to suppose them guilty 
of actual suicide! 

If London, Westminster, and Middle¬ 
sex, deem themselves inadequately repre¬ 
sented, let them urge their remonstrances; 
but why seek to entrap the weak and un¬ 
wary in insidious innovations, and fill 
the minds of the inhabitants of other 
places, with a word, of which one out of 
one hundred does not understand the 
meaning? as if to ransack the country for 
grievances, to intimidate parliament, and to 
disseminate seditious advertisements, were 
the way to secure the rights and interests 
of the people! 

/ 

The superstructure of the British go¬ 
vernment, or rather the base of it, may be 
susceptible of the improvement before 
spoken of; but would it be ad vise- 
able to go farther, and risk the demoli 
tion of that base, by endeavouring to alter 
or mould its shape. Fresh buttresses 


should be attached to that base to render 
it stronger; but its corner-stone must, on 
no account, be taken away. 

Every man of property, and every man 
in this country, who has any thing to lose, 
(and who is there that does not possess 
the blessing of liberty, unless, by his own 
folly, or his own crimes, he may have lost 
it?) should be anxious to preserve the con¬ 
stitution, under which every Yuan enjoys 
so many blessings, rather than to incur any 
risk, by venturing on a wild reform, ac¬ 
cording to maddened theories and enfu- 
riated speculations. 

If our liberties are in danger, it is from 
the riots and tumults, that have been ex¬ 
cited in opposition to law and order, which 
are now more than ever necessary to be 
preserved, that the restless and extrava¬ 
gant multitude may be shut out from the 
possibility of effecting a revolution. lac- 


274 


tiousmen there will be in all communities;, 
but, against these, the laws happily form a 
barrier, too strong to be broken by their 
machinations; too durable to be levelled 
by the phrenzied speculations of theorists 
and innovators; too just and equitable to 
be violated by “ a party, who pretend re¬ 
form and seek anarchy; who magnify them¬ 
selves into the nation, and diminish the na¬ 
tion into a faction ; and declare their own 
infallibility, by impeaching and depre¬ 
ciating the judgment of all others.” 

These nominal patriots, these meteors 
of an hour, are only the tools of party; it 
is time to get rid of all prejudices, and 
men in this respect should make no part of 
the consideration. It is our country that 
demands our aid, and party should be set 
at nought; did every man act from prin¬ 
ciple, were every man to throw up his si¬ 
necures, official emoluments, and his pen¬ 
sions, we should, then, discover, who are the 


real patriots: until then, it may be sur¬ 
mised, that self-interest, and not patriotism, 
is the general basis of pensioned public 
characters. # 

* When self is every thing, and the country nothing, 
w hen men may be found base enough to prefer even 
a degraded emolument to the glorious cause of their 
country, then the yoke of a conqueror is invited. The 
jreal patriot should look to no other consideration than 
the interests of his native land,and see how best he can 
support them : the grand interest of a statesman should 
be the universal good. He should be just in his opera¬ 
tions to the public as well as to himself; and, above all, 
should be desirous of meriting t e eulogium bestowed 
upon Sir Thomas Hanmer, speaker of the House of 
Commons, in Queen Anne’s reign. 

“ Honores alios, et omnia, quae sibi in lucrum cede- 
•rent, munera sedulo detractavir, ut rei totus inserviret 
publicae : justi rectique tenax et fide in patriam incor- 
•rupta notus;” which passage has been tints para¬ 
phrased by Dr. Johnson. 

i( -he sought no gainful post, 

Nor wish’d to glitter at’his country’s cost ; 

Strict on the right he fix’d his stedfast eye, 

With temperate zeal and wise anxiety.” , 

t ' 

• - ,, i _ v 

** Corruption puts on diiferent masks: in the cor-'' 



No man deserves the name of patriot, 
who prefers his own private concerns to 


rupters, il will be termed able management, encou¬ 
raging the friends of administration, and cementing a 
natural harmony and dependence between the three 
different estates of the government—in the corrupted, 
it will be denominated loyalty, attachment to the 
country, and prudence in providing for one’s own 
family. In such times as these, this evil, assuming 
the specious mame of politeness, taste, and magni¬ 
ficence, will gain a fresh accession of strength, from 
its very effects; because corruption will occasion a 
greater circulation of the public money, and the dis¬ 
sipations of luxury will gild over private vices with 
the plausible appearance of public benefit: and when 
a state, so circumstanced, labours under a war with a 
formidable power, then, and not till then, the conse¬ 
quences of this baleful evil will shew themselves, in 
their true colours, and produce their proper effects. 
The councils in such a state will be weak and pusil¬ 
lanimous, because the honest and noble citizens, who 
aim, solely, at the public welfare, will be excluded 
from all share in the government, from party motives; 
their measures will terminate in poor shifts and tem¬ 
porary expedients, calculated only to amuse the ene¬ 
my and to divert the attention of their countrymen 
from their imprudent conduct; their fleets and armies 
will be either employed in useless parade, or will 
miscarry in action, from the incapacity of their com- 


/ 


277 

the great couceras of his country; no man 

* * 

deserves the highest command, who will 

not do his duty in a subordinate station: 

* 

any other patriotism but this is a day 
dream, and vanishes with the cause that 
gave it birth. 

\ - 

While such a fondness is exhibited for 
place and power, what can the country 
suppose, but that every affirmative or ne¬ 
gative to a parliamentary question, either 
proceeds from the fear of losing, or the 

mandersj a great part of the public money will be 
absorbed by the number of pensions and lucrative 
employments, and directed to the purposes of corrup¬ 
tion ; the funds destined to the public service will be 
greatly deficient; and heavy taxes must, consequently, 
be raised to make up the deficiency.”— E. W. Montagu , 
Esq. Were the present form of government to be 
abolished to-morrow, and another on the reformation 
system to replace it, faction would still exist, and 
luxury and corruption would even have more room to 
breathe than they have at present. 

£ B 


< 


27 S 


hopes of obtaining, some post or pension 
from the crown. 

< ■ • ' 

In attaching, therefore, so much conse¬ 
quence to this or that party,* while the 
same measures almost are pursued by both, 
argues that men in power must have 
bad hearts, and those out of it must have 
good ones: but the public good alone 
should be the aim of all parties; and to 
that good, like the radii to a centre, they 
should approach, by patriotism, diligence, 
and attention. 

* 1 

The idols of a party are not, always, the 
best affected to their country’s cause; the 


* “ There cannot be a more certain symptom of 
the approaching ruin of a state, than when a firm ad¬ 
herence to party is fixed on as the only test of merit ; 
and all the qualifications, requisite to a right discharge 
of every employment, are reduced to that single stan¬ 
dard .”—Reflections on the Rise and Fall of the ancient 
Republics^ by E. W. Montagu , Esq. 


27 9 


/ 


truth of this assertion must have been very 
evident in many instances, of late : the film, 
therefore, which envelopes the senses of En¬ 
glishmen, at this crisis, should be, instantly, 
withdrawn, that they may view every public 
man, as he ought to be viewed; not, with re¬ 
ference to his title, fortune, or gifts of 
oratory, but, as to his undoubted preten¬ 
sions to a sincere regard for his country, 
evinced not by professions, but demon¬ 
strated by actions, and actions alone. 

By adopting these various modes of vir¬ 
tuous and civil reform, we may depend on 
success; and, by making the experiment, 
we have nothing to fear, but a great deal to 
hope, because we may, thereby, restore our 
country to its former health. 

The man, who shall, now, temporize be¬ 
tween two parties, with the sordid and de¬ 
spicable view of keeping well with both, in 
order, eventually, to fall in with the strongest 
side, and share the spoil, is warmed by no 

BBS 


2SG 


principle, and may be termed a traitor to 
his country. 

/ 

The time is, rapidly, approaching, when 
our ruin or salvation must take place; cor¬ 
ruption, if persisted in, must produce the 
former; a recovery of that public spirit, 
which fortifies a man in virtue and makes 
him despise honours and wealth, as the 
wages of venality, must produce the lat¬ 
ter : lukewarmness of opinions and neg¬ 
lect in parliamentary attendance should 
exist no longer; for he that is absent from 
his post at such a crisis, is as guilty os he 
who deserts to the enemy. * 

n i* i t z * > 


* li In such times as these, when the spirit of fac¬ 
tion has stalked abroad, it is not for public men to 
seek individual exoneration, or to stand aloof. An 
unanimous effort should be made to combat an attack, 
which has long been matured, is dangerously orga¬ 
nized, and is sought by every means to be widely dif¬ 
fused among the people. It is the traitorous attempt 
of the last fifteen years, now skulking under a new 
shape, and assuming a most dangerous and deadly 
form j it menaces not party, but parliament; not mi- 

i 



28 l 


The ancients tell us, that a brave and 
virtuous nation can never be enslaved; and, 

nisters, but the constitution ; not any certain set of 
men, but all the inestimable blessings, which time, 
toil, and troubles, have secured to the country : under 
such attacks as these, no country can be safe; but, at 
such a time as this, the peril is doubly hazardous, in 
consequence of the war.” 

It is not then by standing neutral, (for such are, al¬ 
ways, trampled upon and crushed by both parties) 
that the country can be saved ; nor is it by adopting 
one week this sentiment, and in the following week 
an opposite practice; nor is it by veering like the 
weather-cock with every wind, or being perpetually at 
cross-purposes, or blowing hot and cold with the 
same breath, that the public good can be consulted ; 
there should be only one party in the country, and 
that party must be unanimous, and one heart and one 
hand must direct the energies of every individual, 

The salvation of England is, principally, now in the 
hands of her representatives; let them pursue the 
public good with the same honesty and vigour that 
their constituents demand, for on them they have 
placed all their best hopes, and they are imperiously 
called on to do their duty : not, by making an opposi¬ 
tion on personal accounts, for that is not patriotism; 
but by an active attention to national points, and at- 


282 



on the contrary, that no nation, which is 
cowardly or vicious, can be free. Montes¬ 
quieu prophesied, that <c England, in the 
course of things, must lose her liberties ; 
and, then, that she will be a greater slave 
than anv of her neighbours.” God for 
ever forefend the fulfilment of this prophe¬ 
sy ! but, if the present rage for political in¬ 
novation shall continue, the loss of her li¬ 
berties is a certain consequence—if this fa¬ 
tal delusion shall ever be permitted to make 
any inroads on “ a constitution, which is 
the happiness of the country, and the envy 
and wonder of other nations; which con¬ 
sists of the best system of practical liberty, 
combined with the most unexceptionable 
form of executive powder that ever existed in 
any nation—“ if,” to use the words of M. 
Roland, “ disorganization become habitual; 
■—if men, fired with zeal, but destitute of 


tacking measures, not men—not by the mean solicita¬ 
tion of honours and preferments; but, by preferring 
obscurity, and even poverty itself, to exaltation, ac¬ 
quired and maintained by dishonourable means 1 


4 



283 


prudence or knowledge, pretend to interfere 
daily in the administration and impede its 
operations—if, by the support of some po¬ 
pular favour, obtained by great ardour and 
supported by loquacity, they disseminate 
mistrust, multiply accusations, excite dis¬ 
content, and dictate proscriptions’’—the go¬ 
vernment will soon be only a shadow or 
nonentity; and horrors, not to be consi¬ 
dered even without shuddering, must en¬ 
sue. 

✓ 

The sole revolution that England wants 
is a revolution of manners; and a depar¬ 
ture from policies and practices, which 
the last twenty years have proved to be 
injurious. England has no wrongs to 
complain of, but what may be remedied 
by a general unanimity; she has no pre¬ 
tensions to farther rights than she, already, 
possesses; they are fully competent to af¬ 
ford her the greatest liberty and happi¬ 
ness,and the purest, if she will but duly esti¬ 
mate them : what more can she require? 


But—she will not much longer enjoy these 
inestimable blessings, unless morality shall 
how through every vein of her political 
and private measures; unless patriotism 
shall be founded on virtue, and wisdom, 
rendered wiser than before by lamentable 
experience, shall point the way to radical 
amendment; and, unless madness, both 
political and civil, shall, speedily, desist 

from its former practices ! 

# - 

Too lonw has England merited the im- 

o o 

putation of 

“ Video meliora prohoque : 

# 

Deteriora sequor.” 

Let it be her immediate task to put an 
end to this heavy charge, by convincing 
the world, that, in political sagacity and 
ethical improvement, she can attain a supe- 
riority over all her enemies, not inferior to 
that which characterizes her naval securi¬ 
ty, her invaluable laws, and her free and 
favoured soil. 

FINIS. 


W. Lewis, Printer, Paterroster-row, Londoa 




















































































































































































































































































































































































































































